Briarose's story: The 74th Annual Hunger Games
by RomanticCreator
Summary: This story involves Briarose Antigone as the narrator and tribute of District 12, not Katniss. I hope you take the time to read the entire thing because...I re-wrote the entire book! :
1. Part 1

I wake up to the sunlight peering in through my window and the smell of fresh berries coming through the door. Immediately, I push myself up into a sitting position and throw my feet over the side of my bed. I slip into my heavier nightdress and head downstairs.

"Morning, Briar!" calls my older brother, Birch. "How are you?" _Oh boy,_ I think, because he sounds giddier than ever. Birch, or Birchfall, his full name, is a naturally cheery person, but only one thing can make him as joyful as he is now.

"Did you see Madge this morning?" I ask. Madge is the daughter of the district mayor, and Birch was in love with her. I know what his answer is before it even escapes his lips.

"Yes, indeed," he answers.

"Stop it, Birch. I don't know what you see in her," I say grouchily. I honestly didn't care for Madge much. She was, in a way, a bit of a snob.

"And I don't know what you see in that Peeta kid," Birch retorts.

Peeta Mellark is a boy, about my age, with ashy blonde hair and brown eyes. I used to have a crush on him when I was 10. Birch is convinced, though, that I'm still in love with him. I admit, my "crush" was more of an obsession. But that was almost six years ago. My feelings for him have long been diminished. Maybe not all of them, though... "I don't know what you're talking about," I say.

"Oh, come on, Briar," Birch says easily, prancing around me. "You still like him, I know you do. Just admit it, and we can eat in peace."

I _do _still honestly like him. I've been denying it for a while. But there's no way I'm going to let Birch know. "I don't. He's a nice boy and I like him as a friend, that's it," I insist, hoping Birch doesn't notice how red my cheeks are getting.

"Hmph. Okay. But we're not done having this conversation," says Birch. Then his tone hardens. "Because if my baby sister is going to start running off with some baker, I'll be sure to keep an eye on him."

"He's not just some baker!" I say defensively and almost instantly, I know I've let myself slip. _Stupid,_ I think.

"Aha!" Birch yells triumphantly. "You _do _still like him! You _love_ him, don't you?"

"Shut up, Birch. We don't need to discuss this now. Don't you know what day it is?" I ask, a bit annoyed. Birch is silent. "The reaping!" I shout.

"Oh...that. Don't worry, Briar. If you get picked, I'll volunteer for you." Birch is a good brother. Living alone together without any parents, we've developed a strong bond.

"Don't. You won't be doing either of us a favor," I tell him grimly. It's true, though. I don't want Birch going in my place. Besides, there has to be one girl tribute, and one boy tribute. If Birch volunteers, they'll have to pick another name from the girl's side. I don't want that to happen.

I eat some of the berries Birch collected earlier and go back upstairs to get into my reaping day outfit. It's a white dress, about kneelength, and it has buttons going halfway down my front. I tie a light blue ribbon around my waist to add some color to the white, although, after my few years of wearing it, it's become more eggshell than white. After I have my ribbon in a bow behind my back, I begin on my hair. On an everyday basis, I have it in a high messy bun or ponytail. My hair is long and thick, so there isn't much you _can_ do with it, especially when you have to go out everyday to hunt for food.

I don't hunt alone, of course. I hunt with my best friends, Katniss Everdeen and Gale Hawthorne. I've known them both since I was five, and ever since the first day we met, we've been best friends. Nearly inseperable. Katniss is a fit girl of sixteen with medium length brown hair and brown eyes. I love her like my own sister, and I'd die for her. Gale is a big, stocky guy of about seventeen. He has gray eyes and black hair. Gale and I met before Katniss and I did. He was my first friend, but only after I met Katniss did we really begin to become close. He's a polite boy, but sometimes, he can be really cocky.

I begin to comb my hair with a brush my mother had given to me before she died. My mother was beautiful. And more than once I've been told I'm like her reflection, young and pretty. But my mother was her own person, and our personalities were very much unalike. After I finish brushing my hair, I pull it in a high ponytail and begin to style it into an old style I learned from Katniss. It's like a braid, only more tight looking and with less buildup. I like it just fine. I then pull the end of my hair to the beginning of my ponytail and tuck it inside and secure it.

I step back and look in my mirror. I see my mother, her presence in my face. Then I see Birch, standing in my doorway. He's dressed in a finely sewn shirt with a strong looking collar and black pants. It's exactly what my father used to wear when he had to go to reapings. But he, like my mother, is dead. And he has escaped the fear and anxiety of reapings.

"Ready to go?" Birch asks.

"Ready as I'll ever be," I say quietly. "Keep us safe," I whisper to my mother. I know she can hear me, wherever she may be.

Birch and I descend down the stairs and out the door. Whatever sense of jollity Birch had earlier in the morning was gone. Completely vanished. But what is there to be happy about? Someone from our district, probably one of my friends, was about to basically be sentenced to death. District 12 almost never had a winner of the Hunger Games. I say "almost" because District 12 did have a winner once. Haymitch Abernathy. I don't know how he did it. I only see him drunk nowadays.

As we walk, I realize that we're early. There are only about seven other people going to the reaping now. I hate being early to reapings. You have to stand there and wait forever for the comfort of your friends to come. "Birch, we're early," I say. "Again."

"No we aren't," he says and continues on.

"Yes, we are! I hate being early to reapings! It's like I'm a goat waiting to be slaughtered in a slaughterhouse!" I'm getting really worked up now. The anxiety of the reaping is taking full affect and Birch embraces me tightly. I'm almost ashamed, too, because usually, I'm very good at hiding my pain. Birch is lucky. Being 18, this is his last reaping.

"We're going to be okay, I promise," he says slowly. "Nothing's going to happen to us. The names will be picked, and then we can go home."

"No!" I shout, pulling away. "Birch, what if Katniss gets picked? Or Gale? Or even Primrose?" Katniss had a little sister named Primrose. She was definitely the sweetest girl I've ever met and I didn't want her to get picked as much as I didn't want Katniss or Gale to be picked. _Or Peeta, _a voice in my head adds urgently. Peeta isn't just a boy I'm in love with, he's also my friend, like Katniss and Gale. "I'd go in their places..."

"Briarose, don't talk like that," Birch says. "I know you _would_ go in their places if you wanted, but just don't. If one of them is picked, don't make a sound. Stay silent." And he hugs me again. Like I said, he's a good brother.

"Okay," I sigh. But deep down, I know something bad is going to happen at this reaping, and I'm going to have to do something about it. "We're still early, though."

"Fine," says Birch. "If you really think we're that early, then go find Katniss or Gale. Talk to them. They probably feel the same way."

I take this as an oppurtunity to go see Peeta. He's in the bakery, as always. His father is the head baker, and Peeta and his two brothers help out. They're a lovely family. Except for the mother. She's a monster, always yelling and blaming everything that goes wrong on Peeta and his brothers. Usually I would be able to look by all that, but once, when I was younger and Birch and I were starving to death, I asked her for roll if she had an extra. You know what she did? She had a roll, alright, but it was rock hard and she threw it at me and Birch. So now, it's a personal thing.

I near the bakery and through the window I can see the outline of three people. Peeta is one of them. I can tell by the build the silhouette has. The other one may be his father. The last one I can't distinguish, but it's not his mother, so I don't worry. I was always welcome in the Mellark's presence. I step onto the porch and knock on the door.

The handle turns and I see Mr. Mellark standing in front of me. He smiles. "Hello, Briarose," he says warmly. "Come in."

"Thank you, sir," I reply. The scent of freshly baked bread is all around me, comforting me.

"How are you?" Mr. Mellark asks.

"Oh, fine," I say. "Just fine."

"Briar!" I hear my name almost squeeled, and I turn to see Peeta standing next to his brother. He looks handsome in his reaping day outfit. He comes to me and wraps his arms around me. He, like the rest of the bakery, smells of bread. "How are you?"

"Fine," I say. I'm not lying. I am fine, but just fine. Wanting to change the subject of how I am, I say to Peeta, "You look nice."

Peeta looks down at himself. "Thanks, but this isn't my favorite attire." I get what he means. A reaping day outfit is never a good one, no matter how beautiful it really is. "You look nice too."

"Thanks."

"How is Birchfall?" Mr. Mellark asks me. "I haven't seen or talked to him in a while."

"He's doing fine, same as me. I'll be sure to tell him to come down for some bread when we get back from the reaping," I tell him. _If we get back from the reaping,_ I think.

"Very well, I look forward to it." Mr. Mellark smiles again and leaves the room, followed by Peeta's brother.

"Peeta, I'm worried," I suddenly blurt out as soon as they're gone. "Birch...what if he gets chosen? Or Katniss? And Gale, what about him?"

"Shh," Peeta hushes me. He hugs me again and I'm comforted by his warmth. "Don't worry about all that. Everything's going to be alright, same as last year and the years before."

"This one is going to be different, I know it is," I tell him. Then something hits me like a boulder. "What about _you_?"

"I'm going to be fine," says Peeta. I don't understand how he can be so calm at the thought of his own name being chosen for the Games. "It's you I'm worried about, and my brothers, of course.

"I should go," I say quickly. I tell myself I have to leave because Birch will be missing me, but really, I'm leaving because I feel like I'm about to cry, or worse, vomit. Peeta hugs me one last time.

"Okay. I'll see you in a few minutes," he says. "Just a few minutes."

"I know." And I leave the bakery, heading toward the reaping.

I'm at the square sooner than I had wanted to be. Birch is there waiting for me near the registration. The Peacekeepers jab your finger with a needle and take blood for some reason. I never understood why. It's not like District 12 really has the money for the machines they use at the Capitol to determine someone's identity by blood samples. But still they do it. I notice there are a lot more people filing into the square. This makes me feel better.

"Come on, Briar," Birch says as I approach him. "We've done this before. They're just going to take a bit of blood."

"Don't talk to me like I'm a baby, Birchfall!" I shout angrily. "You're only two years older than me. You're not my mother."

"And I would never want to be," Birch says calmly. He and my mother never did got along well. "Just, come on."

I stepped over to the registration table and the Peacekeepers, as always, stuck my finger with a needle and took blood. Then they let me go. "I'll see you later," Birch calls after me. I nod.

During the reapings, the boys and girls are kept on seperate sides of the square. And we're kept in little sections divided off by age, the oldest in the front and the youngest in the back. I step over the rope that divides off my section.

I'm relieved when I see Katniss. She looks very pretty in her light blue dress and her hair done up like it is. I walk toward her and stand next to her. She seems nervous, really nervous. Then I remember, it's Primrose's first reaping.

"Katniss..." I say softly. "Katniss."

She turns her head, surprised to see me. "Briar!" she says happily. I can tell she's as relieved to see me as I was to see her. I embrace her.

"Are you okay? You look so nervous," I say.

"I'm fine, but Prim...she was so scared. I didn't want to leave her side," says Katniss.

"Prim is going to be fine, just like the rest of us." I use the words Peeta used on me. "And we'll all go home, just like last year, and the year before."

Suddenly, I hear tapping on the microphone on the platform, and I know the reaping is about to start. I stand rigid, like a statue, and I see Katniss is the same way.

Effie Trinket's high voice trills over the microphone. "Good afternoon, and happy Hunger Games!" she says. "And may the odds be _ever_ in your favor!"

A short video comes on about the rising of the districts, and the revolution, and the destruction of District 13, and how the Capitol is now punishing us for the uprising. I hardly pay any attention to it though. I'm thinking about Katniss. Poor, poor Katniss. She's so worried about Prim. It must be hard to be the older sibling. I'm lucky. I have Birch to play the part of the "responsible one". Katniss has to do that herself. I'm also thinking about Gale and Peeta. Gale doesn't have anyone to worry about but himself, but Peeta has two brothers and himself. And I think, I'm worrying about him more than he is.

The video is finished and Effie takes the microphone again. "And now for the names," she states. _Well, no kidding_, I think irritably. It always had vexed me how Effie was in a terribly good mood at every single reaping. "Ladies first."

_Oh no, _I think. _No, no, no, no. I'm not ready._ But it doesn't matter. Effie is already sinking her hand into the bowl of names. She pulls one out after feeling around for a minute, and returns to the microphone. "Hmm..." she says, unfolding the paper. "Primrose Everdeen!"

_No!_ The thought almost escapes my lips. But I remember what Birch told me. _Stay silent_. How can this be happening? Prim only had her name in there once. Once! Not like Katniss, who had her name entered forty-eight times, because of the tesserae. We have the option of taking it in exchange for our name entered in again. Katniss had to take it. Her family survives mostly on Prim's goat milk, which isn't much. I look at Katniss. Her face has gone paler than snow and she's standing as still as a statue. Then I look for Prim. She's alone now, in her section. All the other girls from her age group are stepping away, as if she has a contagious disease. In a way, she does. I can hear the crowd cursing as they always do when a 12-year-old gets chosen because no one thinks it's fair. Prim is pale, her hands clenched in tight fists. Slowly, she begins to make her way to the platform. _Prim! _

"Prim!" I think the sound comes from my mouth, but it doesn't. It's Katniss who calls to her little sister. "Prim! Prim!" she shouts as she pushes through the Peacekeepers. "Prim!" Then, what I dread she is going to say, she begins to say. "I volun-"

"I volunteer!" I scream at the top of my lungs before Katniss can. A path is formed as the other girls in my section step away from me too. I take a pace away from my section, away from my safety. "I volunteer as tribute," I say again, nodding my head.

"Briar, no!" Katniss is on me in a second, her hands on my shoulders, trying to push me back into our section. "Don't do it!" she whispers.

"Hush, Katniss," I say to her as calmly and as gently as possible, because, honestly, I'm as terrified as ever. "I told you it would all be okay." I push her hands off my shoudlers and I step toward the platform.

"Well, I never!" Effie exclaims. "Our very first volunteer from District 12!"

"NO! NO! Please! No! I'll go! Not her, please!" I turn around and see little Prim running toward me. She wraps herself around me. "Please! I'll do it! I'll participate! Just don't take Briar!"

"Prim, Prim, Prim," I say softly. I kneel down to her level. "It's going to be okay. It's going to be okay. Calm down, alright? It's okay. I want to do this for you. It's going to be okay. I promise." Then I hug her and she hugs me. Actually, she squeezes me. She's not ready to let go, and I see Gale coming toward us and he pulls her off of me. "Gale..."

"Be strong, Rosy," he tells me. He's the only one that calls me Rosy. He came up with that nickname the first day I met him. "I'll come up to see you." After the names are picked, the tributes are allowed visitors, to say goodbye. _Gale... _I think, _Thank you._ He brushes a strand of hair back behind my ear and walks away with Prim held tight in his arms.

"No! Briarose!" She's still crying when she vanishes from my sight.

Just then, the severity of what I've just done sinks in. What I've done, in reality, is sentence myself to death. I'd rather die instead of Prim, though. I walk to the platform, head raised as high as I can manage. "Come on, dear. Come on over," Effie coaxes me. She takes my hand and leads me to the microphone. "Our very first volunteer from District 12! What's your name, dear?"

"Briarose Antigone," I answer. I can feel my hands shaking and I hope that no one else can notice. I survey the crowd, looking for familiar faces. I see many, but one stands out. It's Birch. He looks at me, his eyes sad and almost...disappointed. _I'm sorry,_ I tell him in my head, _but I had to do it. _He looks away. Then I see another face that stands out. Peeta. His eyes are in shock and he looks paler than I've ever seen him. He mouths "Briar..." to me. _He's scared,_ I tell myself. So scared, I'm afraid that he might volunteer as tribute before Effie can even pick from the boys' bowl.

"Lovely!" Effie says. "Can we all give a round of applause to our very first volunteer from District 12?" No one claps. It's eerily quiet in the square. No one claps, but one by one, they all press their three fingers to their lips and raise it toward me, a sign of respect and sadness for me. "Very good," Effie says gleefully. And right then, I want to tell her to shut her mouth and stop being so happy about this.

"And now for the boys..." She dips her hand into the bowl with the boys' names and pulls one out, carefully selected like the others. "Peeta Mellark," she reads.

My heart plummets. I feel my eyes widen. _Peeta? _Now, it's my turn to go pale. I can feel the color washing out of my face. Peeta stands in his section, his eyes widened. Someone pushes him forward. _Give him a minute, will you?_ Peeta bravely ascends that stairs, the shock of what just happened clearly visible on his face. But in a way, I think he's glad. I can't tell why, but his face isn't in a grimace like the other boys that have been picked before him.

Of all the other boys in District 12...why Peeta? In the Games, we are meant to kill each other to survive, but I make myself a promise. _No matter what happens, I will not kill Peeta. Even if he tries to kill me first, I will not._ I repeat this in my heads many times and I know it's true. I can't kill Peeta. I won't.

"Well, isn't this a nice pair?" Effie asks the crowd. "Go on, you two, shake hands." It's customary that we shake hands, recognizing each other as competitors. But I can't accept Peeta as anything else other than my friend and love. He extends his hand. I stare at him. All I see in his face is sadness and worry and, maybe, a little bit of fear. I wish I could take his place too, save him, but there is nothing I can do now except take his hand in mine. We shake hands. Peeta pulls on my hand, and I go to him and wrap my arms around him. I hear the crowd murmuring about how untraditional it is to show affection for one of you opponents, but I don't care. Effie taps our shoulders after a moment and reminds us it's time to go into the Districthouse to say our last goodbyes to our family and friends. We let each other go, but we're still holding hands when we enter the Districthouse. I'm grateful to feel Peeta by my side when we step in and the doors slam behind us.

The minute we enter the Districhouse, Peeta and I are pulled away from each other and forced into seperate rooms. The room I'm in is beautiful, cleaner than any room I've ever seen in my life. The furniture is mostly a velvet red, with some silver thrown in, and there's a small table in front of me. I can see my reflection. I'm as pale as the clouds and I look as if I haven't eaten in days. This isn't the Briarose Antigone that I saw in my mirror this morning.

There's a knock on the door, and in steps Birch. Though he seems angry with me, I don't hesitate when he opens his arms to me. He holds me like he used to when I was a toddler. I begin to speak. "Birch...I-"

"Shush." Birch interupts me. "You did what you had to, I understand that. You're so brave to go through with it. But you disobeyed me."

Hot anger rushes through me and clearly registers on my face. "You're not my mother," I tell Birch again. "It's too late to change things now anyway, isn't it?"

Birch smiles, unaffected by my fury. "That is exactly what's going to keep you alive. You're rage, and how it leaves your body."

"What do you mean?" I ask him.

"I mean that when you're angry or upset, it's obvious. You're strongest when you're emotional, and it's scary when you are," Birch explains. It makes sense, and it's unfailingly true. I can disguise my pain or sadness with a quick smile, but my anger is impossible to hide. At least, it's impossible to hide from Birch. "It'll keep you alive."

"I hope," I say as I start to pull down my hair. What use is looking pretty in here? Then there's another knock on the door and the Peacekeepers tell Birch he has to go now.

"Stay strong, Briarose. Be yourself. It'll keep you alive," he tells me as he hugs me one last time and hands me a small pin. "Bye, little sister." He kisses my forehead, and walks out the door with the Peacekeepers right next to him. I look at the pin he gave me. It's a mockingjay, one of the Captiols' muttations.

I'm overcome with a strong sense of grief. I won't be seeing Birch for a long time. Maybe not ever again. He's the only family I have now. We keep each other alive. _I wonder how Mr. Mellark will take Birch's visit?_ I wonder. But then I remember, I never told Birch Mr. Mellark wanted to see him. _Birch will probably want to go see him anyway, though._

Another knock on my door signals yet another visitor. Or visitors, as it is this time. It's Prim, Mrs. Everdeen, and Katniss. I stand up. Prim runs to me and wraps her small arms around my waist. I can feel her tears seeping through my dress. "I wish you didn't have to go," says Prim.

"But I _do _have to go, Prim," I tell her. "But only for a little while. Then I'll be back, and I'll have great stories to tell you." I speak to her like I used to when she was younger.

"You have to win, Briar. You have to. Promise you'll try? Really, really try?" Prim sobs.

"I promise," I say, kissing her head. She steps back to her mother and Katniss comes toward me.

"Why'd you do it?" she demands angrily. "Why?"

"Well I _was _about to do it for Prim," I say. "but then...you were going to volunteer and...I don't know, I just...I didn't want you to go, Katniss. It wouldn't be the same without you."

"It won't be the same without you either," says Katniss. "You shouldn't have done it...you should've just let me take care of it."

"Come on, Catnip," I say, using the nickname Gale cleverly invented. "I don't mind going. It's like a new chapter of my life. And I think we all know that I could use a trip outside of the District."

"I never understood how you could be so calm in the worst situation..." Katniss says thoughtfully. "That's a trait that could help you survive longer." _Another thing about me that can help me survie, _I think. _Great. _

"Maybe," I shrug. "Not much else is going to help me, though."

"Don't say that. Don't ever say that," says Katniss. "You're a hunter and a fighter. You're just as strong as the others, if not stronger."

"Maybe," I say again. "I'll at least make it through the first day, probably."

"You will. You'll make it to the very end, and you'll be the one to come home."

"...what about Peeta?" I ask quietly.

"You're stronger than he is. Maybe not in size or build, but you can outsmart him. He'll be easy prey." I don't bother telling Katniss that I'm not going to kill Peeta. She would just shake her head and tell me to do it because I'm stronger than he is. To her I am, anyway.

"Hm. Okay," I say. Katniss didn't really answer my question. She kind of does, but what I really want to know is if Peeta stands a chance of coming out alive. Even if I'm killed, having Peeta be the victor instead of anyone else would be fine. And obviously I don't want him to die.

"Take care, Briar," says Katniss, giving me a long hug. "And come home safe."

"I will," I tell her. Mrs. Everdeen doesn't say anything to me, but she nods and, when the Peacekeepers come for them, is the first to leave. Katniss takes one last look at me and then, she too is gone. Prim, however, has almost walked out the door, but at the last minute, she runs toward me and hugs me again. "Come home, Briar," she orders me sternly. "Yes, ma'am," I answer, and then she's gone.

Not ten seconds have past, and I have another visitor. It's Gale. He stares at me, like he can't believe that this is really happening. "Hey, Gale," I say as easily as I can. "It's okay. I don't mind going for Primrose. She deserves to live a while longer..."

"So do you!" Gale says. "Rosy, you're only sixteen! You haven't lived your life yet. You haven't even been outside the Distict."

"Then this a great oppurtunity to get out and see the world while I have the chance, isn't it?" I say, smiling. On the inside, I'm not smiling. I'm scared as I've ever been in my life. And I know the worst is still to come.

"Briarose, don't do that," says Gale. I'm shocked he doesn't call me by my nickname he fashioned for me when we were only twelve.

"Do what?" I ask innocently.

"That! Don't be cheery when there is clearly nothing to be cheery about." Gale starts pacing in front of me. I step in front of him and he wraps me up in his arms. "If you die, I don't know what I'll do. It would never be the same without you. Katniss and I would be incredibly lonely without you..."

"I'm coming back, Gale. No matter what," I say reasurringly, even though I know that I might not make it far in the Games.

"Rosy, you a_re_ coming back. Do you hear me?" I nod my head. "You're stronger than they are, you are. You just have to believe it yourself. You can hunt and you can fight." I've never actually been in a fight, but it's pointless to tell Gale that now. "You've had practice. Years and years of practice. You _will_ make it, I promise. I forbid anything else."

"Okay, Gale. I'll be coming back, I promise," I smile. "Gale..." I look at the pin the Birch gave me. "Promise me something?"

"Of course."

"Promise you'll look after Birch? He's a big boy now, but he gets lonely easily. He'll need some company. Genuine company."

"Okay, I promise," says Gale. "Stay strong." The Peacekeepers come in and tell Gale it's time to get out. He hugs me again and leaves. I'm alone again.

Effie comes into the room and takes me by the hand. "Come on, dear," she says. "We've got a lot to do today." And she leads me into another room which leads to the train station where we'll be shipped off to the Captiol. Effie takes me to Peeta's room and tell me to wait there for a minute and "make small-talk with my fellow tribute". I knock on the door, and it opens. I see Peeta laying on the bed in the room, which my room lacked. I step toward him loudly to let him know I'm here. He lifts his head.

"Peeta..." I say softly. I approach the bed and sit down with him. He lays on his back and stares at me.

"I can't believe you did that," Peeta tells me.

"Did what?" I ask. "Volunteer? I don't mind. Prim is too young to be going into the arena."

"We're only sixteen. I think we're a bit young, too." Peeta sits up, his eyes still trained on me. I avoid his gaze, afraid there might be a lot of fear or grief in it.

"Still, it's different," I tell him, not knowing what else to say.

Peeta takes my hand. "We're really going to do this, aren't we?"

I sigh, hesitant to answer because I know the true answer is not what Peeta wants to hear. "We are," I tell him. "but it'll be okay."

"I hope nothing happens to you," Peeta whispers. "I would protect you with my life. And I will in the arena if I have to. "

"Same to you," I answer.

"You're a great friend," he says. _Yes,_ I think, _just a friend..._

Effie steps in the doorway and says, "Hurry up, lovelies. It's time to go to the Captiol! Of course, it will take a little while to get there, but it's well worth the wait. Oh...I'm not interupting anything, am I?"

She really is, but we both answer in unicin, "No."

"Well then, come on!" Effie squeels. "Big, big, big day ahead of us!"

Peeta and I follow silently, without speaking at all. As we enter the train station, I can't help being mesmerized. The train alone is beautiful. It has about twenty different cars, and it shines a brilliant silver. The actual station is equally as beautiful, silver and shining in the light. "Come on, come on. In here!" Effie calls.

We step onto the train. The interior is more amazing than the exterior. Everything, the furniture, the carpets, even the walls, are more breath-taking than anything I've ever seen in the Seam. I hear Peeta gasp. "This is where we're staying?" he asks.

"No, no, no! You will, for a short amount of time, but this train? It couldn't begin to compare to where you'll actually be spending your time in the Captiol." Effie says. Then she leads us to our rooms, the dining room, the living room. "Go on, Briarose. Go explore your room. Peeta and I have some things to do. Be ready for supper in an hour." she tells me. I have no idea what she meant by "things". I'm tempted to follow Effie and Peeta, but my feet refuse to move. I turn to my room. It's beautiful, like the rest of the train. There's a bed, and a closet, and even a bathroom. I decide to take a shower. I've never taken a shower before, and I've never bathed with warm water. The only way to get hot water back in the Seam is to boil it. The shower is refreshing and it reminds me of a summer rain, only warmer. And for a moment, I'm taken back to District 12...hunting in the woods with Gale and Katniss.

_"Come on, Katniss!" I yell over my shoulder. "Keep your pants on, I'm coming," she yells back. "Catnip, come on! Hurry up!" Gale shouts mischeviously. Katniss hates being called Catnip. But it's her fault she has that nickname. When Gale asked her what her name was, she didn't say it loud enough, and he really thought she said 'catnip'. We're running through the forest, chasing down a small herd of deer. Gale is at my left and Katniss is at my right, just the way it's always been. Soon we come to a clearing, where the herd is beginning to scatter, so we give up the hunt. There's plently more game in the forest. We sit, trying to catch out breaths. When we're rested we stand. Together. Like a true pack. _

I'm jerked from my memory by the sound of knocking on my door. I quickly step out of the shower, throw on a small coat -called a bathrobe? I think- and I open my door. I'm surprised at who the visitor is. It's Haymitch Abernathy.

"Bree-are!" he says gleefully. He's drunk.

"It's Briar," I tell him. "Briarose."

"Oh..." he looks at the cup in his hand. It's almost empty. "Briar!"

"Haymitch!" I say, trying to sound as happily insane as he does.

"Oh, my new little tribute!" He grabs me and hugs me tightly. I squirm away because, to be honest, he was cutting off my air. "I'm gonna make sure you come out of there alive, just like I did. I'm your mentor!"

"Oh, yay," I say. Haymitch is insane. Literally insane. But maybe he's only like this when he's drunk. "So...are we going to get started?"

"On what?" asks Haymitch.

"Oh, god..." Without some sort of training, I don't stand much chance. "On the training!"

"Ah! No. Not yet," says Haymitch. "We'll wait for the...uh...for the boy. Where is he?"

"I don't know. I...haven't seen him," I say. "Should I go look for him?"

"Hmm...yes! You go do that and I'll...well..." He shows me his empty cup and walks away.

I go back in my room and get dressed in a light blue shirt and brown pants. I feel like I'm only getting ready to go hunting. The thought of not hunting with Gale and Katniss anymore discomforts me. _But maybe I will get to hunt with them again, _I think. _Maybe..._

I put my hair into a messy bun as it almost always is and head out my door. I look left and right and decide to go right. This was the way that Effie had taken Peeta. As I walk down the long hall, I notice there are pictures of all the tributes ever chosen from District 12. There's one that I recognize. Camilla Brygid. She had been chosen for the 71st Annual Hunger Games. She was my friend, well, more like my teacher. She taught me how to build snares. And she taught me incredibly well. I remember the day of the reaping that she was chosen. She was so brave...she ascended the stairs to the platform without any expression on her face. I wonder if I had been so brave looking.

"Isn't that Camilla Brygid?" I hear someone say over my shoulder. I turn around and I see Peeta standing right in front of me.

"Yes," I say. "She was my friend..."

"And now she's gone," says Peeta grimly.

"Yes..." Camilla was a strong girl, but she was no match for her opponent when only he and she were left to fight it out in the arena.

"I'm sorry," Peeta says, putting his hand on my shoulder.

"It's fine. I mean, that was three years ago, right?" I say, trying to sound indifferent.

"I guess," Peeta shrugs.

"Haymitch was looking for you," I tell him, wanting to change the subject. "I think he's down in the dining room."

"Ah, Haymitch," says Peeta gratefully. "How is he? Is he a good mentor? Did he seem to know what he's doing?"

"Um..." Haymitch was actually none of those things. Yet. He probably just needed time to sober up. "He's very...excentric."

"Excentric?" Peeta asks. "Okay...I'm assuming you mean that in a good way."

"He's drunk," I tell him. "But he just needs time to sober up, that's all. I'm sure he'll be a terrific mentor after that." I try to stay optimistic.

Peeta and I venture down to the dining room. Effie and Haymitch are already there. Haymitch is sitting practically on Effie's lap. Effie keeps pushing him off and moving over. "Peeta! Briarose!" she calls to us, relieved to have an excuse to leave her seat next to Haymitch. She comes over and shakes each of our hands. "This is Haymitch Abernathy."

"Yes, we've already met," I tell Effie, eyeing Haymitch. He only grins.

"Oh, really?" she asks, looking over at Haymitch.

"Well, I met him. Peeta hasn't," I correct myself.

"Haymitch!" Effie yells. "This is Peeta Mellark."

"Nice to meet you, boy," says Haymitch. He seems less drunk than when I met him.

"Hello..." says Peeta, unsure of what to make of him.

"Well, come on." Effie starts pushing Peeta and I toward the huge dining table. "Time to eat!"

We sit down and immediately are served. It's a five course meal, soup, salad, lamb chops, fruit, and chocolate cake. Effie keeps telling us not to gorge ourselved because there's still more to come. I don't care. I stuff my face because the least I can do for myself is put on a few pounds. I see Peeta doing to same. Effie keeps shivering. I think it's because our table manners aren't the best. Even Haymitch isn't using his best manners. After I've finished my lamb, I put down my fork and lick up the rest of the sauce with my finger. Effie groans and Haymitch and Peeta laugh, following. At least we can still have fun in the last few weeks of our lives.

After dinner, I return to my room. I take off my shirt and pants and trade them in for a silky nightdress. I've never worn silk, but I had felt it a few times. It's slippery, like fish skin, and is easy to move around in. I take my hair down and shake it out. I don't look like myself. I look like an Avox, one of the servants in the Capitol. I'm about to slip into my bed when I hear a knock on my door. I'm tired of having visitors and am reluctant to open it. Still I go to my door. And I'm actually happy with who I see.

"Peeta," I say smiling.

"Briar...can we talk?" Peeta asks.

"Sure," I say and invite him into my room. He sits on my bed. "What do you need?"

"Just to talk. I can't tell anyone else this besides you. Haymitch is too drunk and Effie, well, you know. She would probably tell me I'm being too rash," says Peeta.

"About what? Is something wrong?" I ask him.

"No," he shrugs. "Well, yes. Briar," He takes my hand. "in the arena...we're meant to fight each other."

"I know," I say, shaking my head.

"I won't fight you," says Peeta. "I won't, even if my life depends on it."

"Peeta..." I begin.

"No. Briarose, I won't fight you. We're best friends and I won't hurt you," he says, squeezing my hand.

"Yes...we're friends..." I say. "Peeta, if we're the last two left in the arena...what then?"

"You kill me," he says simply. "You kill me and go home."

"I can't-" I'm shocked that Peeta is even thinking this.

"Briar, you have to," Peeta tells me. "You have to be the one to go home. Go home...to Gale."

"Gale?" I ask. "What do you mean?"

"I think everyone knows that you two are particularly fond of each other," Peeta says. I think I catch a bit of pain in his voice.

_Is he joking? He has to be joking!_ I think. "We're just friends," I tell him. I can't believe I have to explain this to him! "That's it. Just friends." Right then, I want to tell Peeta how I actually feel about him. He thinks I'm in love with Gale! I want to tell him...I have to. But the time isn't right. Maybe it is, but I let it go. _Idiot_.

"Okay, but still. You have to be the one to go home," Peeta says.

"And what if I get killed by someone else?" I demand, because I'm still a little upset he thinks I'm in love with Gale. "What then, Peeta? If we're not the last two, what then?"

"Briar, I'll protect you with my life," Peeta says solemnly. He brushes my cheek with his hand. "I promise."

"Peeta, please don't," I say pushing his hand away. "I don't want you to die for me."

"I want to. Dying for you...it's the only way I w_ant_ to go." For a second, I feel like Peeta really cares about me, maybe as more than a friend.

"You won't be doing me any favors," I remind him. "I can't think of what life would be like without you. You're...special to me."

"You're special to me, too. That's why I'm okay with taking an arrow to the heart for you."

There's another knock on my door and Effie steps in, grinning. "We'll be at the Capitol by morning! Isn't that wonderful?" she says. "Oh, Briar, you'd better get to sleep. We've got a big, big, big day ahead of us tomorrow! Peeta, you too." And she walks away.

"She's right," I say.

"Yeah, I guess I'll be going, then," says Peeta. He gets up and starts for the door. "Briar, I meant what I said. About dying for you."

"And you think I didn't mean what I said?" I ask. Peeta shakes his head. "Well, I was telling the truth."

"I guess we'll be each others bodyguards then," says Peeta. Then he walks out the door and closes it behind him.

When I wake up the next morning, I feel like I haven't slept at all. My eyes are heavy and my movements are rigid. Once again, someone knocks on my door. I groan and open it. It's Effie. She looks as ridiculous as ever, with pink hair, a pink dress, pink heels, and pink lipstick. "Good morning, Briarose!" she says. "Come on down to the dining room. We'll eat and then you're training with Haymitch will begin."

I get in the shower, being taken back to the forest like last time in the warm water. I get out and go to my closet. I pick out a green shirt and light brown pants this time and put my hair in its usual bun. I start for the dining room, almost running into Peeta.

"Morning, Briar," he smiles.

"Morning," I reply.

"Did Effie tell you about today?" he asks.

"She only told me our training starts today."

"Well, that and we're arriving at the Capitol this morning. We're going to meet our stylists."

"Stylists?" I say, confused at first, then I remember. Before the actual Games start, all 24 tributes make a special entrance into the Capitol. It's like a parade, almost. That, and our stylists will be responsible for designing all our outfits for the events we'll be attending, the interview with Caesar Flickerman, the journey through the Capitol. "Oh, right."

"I hope they don't make us look too ridiculous," says Peeta. It's true. A few years ago, the designers for District 12 had their tributes standing in a chariot, fully naked and only painted gray, to represent the coal we mined. I nod and head to the dining room with Peeta at my side.

When we get there, we see Haymitch, going after Effie as usual. Surprisingly, he isn't drunk. That's a first. He takes one look at Peeta and I and immediately straightens up. "Morning, sunshines," he calls.

"Morning..." I say, taking the long way around Haymitch to the dining table. As soon as we sit down, just like last night, the food is served. Eggs and ham. Delcious. After I've finished eating, I turn to Haymitch expectantly. Effie isn't there. I'm not surprised. "What are you looking at?" Haymitch says. He's started drinking again...

"Aren't we training today?" I ask.

"Oh, yeah," he says putting his drink down. _Please stay sober long enough to help us, _I pray. "Okay. So, what are your strengths?"

"What?" Peeta says.

"Your strengths!" says Haymitch impatiently. "What are you good at? Briar," He takes a sip of his drink. "I hear you're good with a bow."

I shrug. "I'm okay."

"She's better than okay," Peeta interupts. "She can nail a squirell 50 yards away right in the eye."

"Hmm..." Haymitch grunts thoughtfully. But he's not thinking about us. He's looking at his cup, empty once more.

"Peeta's strong," I tell him. "He can throw a 100 pound bag of flour like it's a pebble."

"There aren't going to be any bags of flour in the arena, are there?" says Peeta.

"Okay." I realize then that Haymitch has stopped paying attention to us and is more preoccupied with his drinks. He stands up and moves to a small table filled with all sorts of beer and wine. When he comes back, he starts chugging his drink.

"Hey!" I yell. Haymitch doesn't respond.

Peeta reaches his foot across to Haymitch and kicks him drink from his hand, spilling it all over him. Haymitch jumps to his feet and punches Peeta in the cheek then sits back down like nothing happen. This enrages me. I pick up the knife laying on the table, hold it by the blade, and throw it at Haymitch. I'm pretty handy with a knife. It sails through the air and, before it hits the wall behind him, catches his hair, slicing about 3 inches off the bottom. I smile at my success. Haymitch's hand goes to his hair, now extremely lopsided. "Can you hit a solid target, sweetheart, or did you miss pitifully on purpose?" he says.

"Do you _want _me to hit a solid target?" I growl, grabbing the other knife on the table and advancing toward him. Haymitch immediately shuts up.

"Hm, well, good job, hun," he says. "Now, Peeta. What are your strengths again?"

"He's strong," I answer for him, because I know Peeta is too humble to admit his own strengths. "Really strong."

"I'm not-" begins Peeta, only to be interupted by me.

"Yes you are," I tell him. I turn to Haymitch again. "Why do you think he has such a good build?"

"You do have muscles, kid," Haymitch tells Peeta. "That'll be an advantage on your part."

"Thanks," says Peeta. "Any other advice for us?"

"Stay alive, don't get killed," says Haymitch. He laughs, then he stands and leaves. I can feel my jaw drop. _Is that it? _I think.

"Well, that was helpful," I say sarcastically, sitting back down next to Peeta. "Lot's of useful information there."

Peeta laughs. "Yeah," Then he looks at my knife in the wall across the room. "I didn't know you were so skilled with knives."

I turn away because, to tell you the truth, I'm starting to blush. Being complimented by Peeta, it brings out a warm feeling in me. " Sometimes, when I'm hunting and I've wounded an animal, it's a good idea to get a knife in it too before approaching it. Wounded and scared animals are sometimes more dangerous than the others."

"You really scared Haymitch," says Peeta. "He might not have shown it, but you scared him."

"I hope so. Maybe then we can get some useful information from him." I notice Peeta's cheek is turning black and blue. "Is your cheek okay?"

"Does it look okay?" he asks.

"No, it's black and blue," I tell him. I gingerly lay my finger on it. It's throbbing. "It looks painful."

"Not really," says Peeta.

"Liar," I say playfully. "You should get ice on it or something." I slide my hand from his cheek to his chest. I feel his heart beating under his shirt. _Beating for someone else, _I think. Even though Peeta's never admitted it, he's in love with someone. Just not me... Peeta takes my hand and kisses it. _No more than friendly affections. _We've always shared it. And again, I wish I could tell him how I feel.

"We're here!" I hear Effie's voice calling to us. "The Captiol! There it is!"

Peeta and I look through the window of the dining room and we see the Capitol rising up around us. My stomach begins to hurt as I remember why we're actually here. To compete for our lives. I let out a small wimper of sort, and Peeta puts him arm comfortingly around me. I love feeling his arm around me. There's a familiarity to it, the muscles, the softness of his skin. "We're going to be okay, I promise," he says.

We arrive at the Capitol Building with a huge crowd of spectators waiting for us. Seeing them makes me feel uncomfortable, so I back away from the window. Peeta, however, soaks in the crowd's excitement of our arrival. He waves to them and smiles. I feel a twinge of annoyance with Peeta. How can he be so inviting to the crowd's cameras? How can he be so calm about this whole thing? That crowd disgusts me. They're only here to watch us die. Maybe that's his stradegy though. To be overly friendly to the people, and therefore, rake in a lot of sponsers. You need sponsers to survive in the Games. They can send you food, medicine, anything that you need at the time. They are, in a way, your lifeline. It isn't a bad stradegy, when you think about it. It's quite clever, actually.

"Ow!" I grit my teeth as I feel each individual hair being torn from my leg. "Sorry," says Venia, a woman who was assigned to destroy my legs. "Sorry," she says again as she rips more hair from my legs. She has a thick Capitol accent. _Why do their voices have to be so high? _I wonder. _And why do all their sentnces end like a question? _"Last one," Venia tells me. "Ready?" She doesn't give me time to respond. She just does it.

For three hours I've been sitting in this Remake Center, and I still haven't met my stylist. Apparently he needs time to put final touches on my outfit I'll be wearing during the "parade" through the Capitol. I remember the last few tributes from District 12, and I don't really love the thought of being dressed in ridiculous looking oufits and processing all through the Capitol.

I'm then taken to another section of the Remake Center where I'm scrubbed down with an odd looking brush. They tell me it's meant to remove all dead skin cells from my body, making me "glow". After that, they continue ridding my body of hair. I hate the feeling that my skin has afterwards. It feels tingly, and it hurts in some places. "It'll all be worth it, hun," one woman tells me. "You'll be absolutely radiant after we're finished with you." I only nod.

The three people working on me suddenly put their things down and walk out of the room, and I wonder if they've given up completely on me. But then a man comes through the door. He's in his late thirties, perhaps, and doesn't wear what most of the Capitol people wear. He's in a black suit with a black tie, and the only thing that ties him to the other stylists is subtle gold eyeliner on his top lid. "Hello, Briarose. I'm Cinna, your stylist," he says.

"Hello," I say as happily as I can. Because honestly, I'm not exctatic about seeing him. The thought of being put through more torture to make myself look "radiant" doesn't seem worth it anymore.

"Hmm..." Cinna says thoughtfully. "Turn around for me."

I reluctantly turn and I have to resist the urge to make a lunge for the robe sitting across from me to cover my naked body.

"This is going to be perfect," says Cinna at last. "Yes, I can see it now. The outfit I designed for you, it will be perfect."

"How long have you had this planned out?" I ask.

"Only a few days," Cinna tells me. "I had a look at some of the past outfits for District 12 and, well, frankly...they disturbed me. I wanted to go with something more fitting."

"Okay? So what did you do?"

"You see, each district is meant to where something that explains what they do for a living. Which, in your case, is coal mining. Instead of focusing on the whole concept of mining, I decided to focus on the coal itself. Not the color, but the makeup. Coal. It's gray on the outside, but heat it up, and it can become a brilliant gem. Heat. Fire. That's what I've come up with."

"Fire? Like, real fire?" I ask.

"Yes! Real fire," says Cinna gleefully. "We'll have some on your backs. It will look as though you're leaving a trail of fire on the walkway when you ride down it."

"Are you sure that's safe?" I'm not too thrilled at the thought of being turned into a burnt lump of flesh in the middle of the streets.

"Of course. It's not going to be real fire. It's only a synthetic that me and Portia invented." I give Cinna a confused look. "Portia is Peeta's stylist. She's a real whiz with fire."

Cinna takes me to yet another dressing room. This one actually contains the costume I'll be wearing. "Isn't it beautiful?" Cinna asks. I nod. He takes it down from an array of hangers and hands it to me. I immediately step into it, relieved not to be naked and exposed to the world anymore. I'm in a simple black unitard that covers me from my neck to my ankles. Although the only color on it is black, it shines as the light hits it at different angles. Leather boots lace up to my knees. And a cape, long and flowing, is pinned to my back. The material is unlike any I've ever felt before. It feels like a cross between silk and velvet, probably ideal for to sustain the synthetic flames. "Briarose Antigone...the girl who was on fire." Cinna says proudly.

We whisk down to a lower level where Peeta and his stylist are waiting for us. He is dressed in essentially the same outfit as me, except his hair is slicked back with what must be a ton of styling gel. My hair was simply pinned behind my ears and left to flow down my back, adding to the flame affect. I then realize, if my hair is flowing behind me, it will be intertwining with the flames. There couldn't be a chance it would catch on fire...could there? The thought makes me shiver.

"You okay?" Peeta asks.

"Just nervous," I say. We step into an elevator that takes us down to the streets where our chariot awaits us. "What do you think? About the flames?" I ask Peeta as we approach our chariot. It's drawn by four horses, the color of the darkest coal.

"I'll rip off your cape, and you rip off mine," he says through gritted teeth, and I can tell, he's no more excited about it than I am.

"Deal," I say. "Where is Haymitch? Isn't he supposed to be here? And isn't he supposed to protect us from this sort of thing?"

"He's probably drunk somewhere, lying in the streets," Peeta says easily. "Don't worry. He'll get here."

The tributes from District 1 mount their chariot. Their horses are beautifully white and there's silver spraypaint on their legs. The anthem begins playing, and the doors to the street open. The roar of the crowd almost unsteadies me, but Peeta catches me. I give him a grateful glance. District 2 lines up behind District 1, followed by District 3, and so on. Before we know it, District 11 are the only ones seperating Peeta and I from the huge crowd. "Here we go," says Cinna and I barely have time to react before he sets our capes ablaze with the artificial flames. Our chariot begins to pull away just as Haymitch steps up next to us. "Hold hands," he hisses. "Do it!" Peeta, hearing him before I do, grabs my hand and our chariot is pulled into the streets.

Peeta is much more comfortable with the overwhelming mass of people than I am. I find myself moving closer to him, as if he's a sort of refuge for me. He gives my hand a reassuring squeeze and I find the courage to step away from him and even wave a bit. The whole thing is breathtaking, the streets, the people, the blare of the anthem. All of it. And through the herd of faces, I see the other tributes. They're standing away from each other, not close like Peeta and I, like the Games have already begun.

I notice people staring at us. Clearly, no other tributes have ever done anything like this, setting our capes on fire. Their cheers are mixed with loud _oohs _and _aahs. _After what seems like forever, the twelve chariots pull into the City Circle in an organized loop. I see the other tributes staring too, but their faces are hateful. Because we stole their night with our outfits. President Snow mounts a large podium and welcomes us all. He then goes through another lecture about the revolution of the districts, the abolishment of District 13, and why we now have the Hunger Games. As a reminder of the Capitol's ever-reigning power over the Districts. Nothing I haven't heard a million times already. Then he bids us goodnight, and leaves the great podium. Our chariots are pulled from the City Circle, and I see Cinna and Portia and Haymitch all smiling at us as we approach. "Great job," they all say.

"Thanks for keeping a firm grip on my hand," says Peeta. "I was getting a bit shaky."

I hadn't even noticed I was gripping his hand that tightly. I don't bother saying this to him, of course. "You're welcome," I reply. "You didn't seem too shaky. I'm sure no one noticed."

"I'm sure no one noticed anything but you," says Peeta. "You should wear flames more often. They suit you." And then he gives me a smile so genuinely pleasant that I think it can't be real. But it is. At least, I think it is. Then I think_, Maybe it's only another stradegy...to be so incredibly nice, that I won't suspect a thing and I'll be easy prey. _But I won't give in to his games. No matter how much I feel for him. I promised I wouldn't kill him, I didn't promise I wouldn't play his games right back at him. So I lean up and kiss him, right on his bruise.

The Training Center. It's a huge building with a tower designed for each district. This is where we're staying until the actual Games begin. And when Effie told us that the train couldn't begin to compare to where we'll actually be staying, she couldn't be more correct. The elevator is made of clear crsytal which allows you to see everyone below you. You just step in and press the number of your distrct and you're whisked away to that floor. Once on the twelfth floor, I'm tempted to ask Effie if we can ride it again, but that seems childish.

My quarters are larger than our entire house back home. Birch and I don't live in the poorest part of the Seam ,like Katniss does, and the houses aren't as small and shabby as you would think, so if you think about it, that's saying something. There's a panel directly across from my bed with so may buttons that I'm not sure I'll be able to push all of them. The shower, for instance, had over a hundred little buttons that spray all sorts of different smelling soaps, shampoos, scents, oils, and messaging sponges. And to dry off all you need to do is step onto a mat and it blowdries you with a billion mechanisms that look like hairdryers. There's also a button to press to comb out your hair when your done your shower. Press it, and a current goes through your hair, untangling, parting, and drying your hair almost instantly.

The closet is holding an array of different clothes like the one on the train, but this one must have at least two hundred different pairs of pant, shirts, dresses, skirts, and shoes. I pick out an outfit to my liking. The windows zoom in and out of parts of the city at my command. I whisper into a mouthpiece what food I want, and it appears right before me, hot and steamy. There's a knock on my door, Effie calling me down to dinner.

Portia and Cinna are standing on the balcony overlooking the city. Peeta is sitting on the coach in the living room, which is right next to the dining room. I'm pleased to hear the stylists will be joining us, since Haymitch is here. As we eat, they seem to be able to keep Effie and him calm. At least, they're addressing each other decently. The last course of our dinner just happens to be a flaming cake. "What makes it burn?" I asked. "Is it alcohol?" Frankly, I didn't want to end up looking like Haymitch after I had a piece of that cake.

Cinna laughs. "It is alcohol, but any remnants that might have made you, well, drunk have probably been seered away by the flames by now."

After we finish the cake, we move into the sitting room to watch a replay of the opening ceremonies. A few of the other district's tributes make an impression, particularly District 1. Because everytime their horses took a step, their legs and hooves glistened like they were covered in crystals. Still, none of them could compare to Peeta and I, the flames, the handholding. What I saw earlier in the streets was correct. None of the other district's tributes would even look at each other, let alone hold hands, like they were already planning how to kill the other. Everyone in the sitting room lets out an exhasperated gasp as Peeta and I ride through the Capitol, our flames leaving a blaze behind us.

"Who's idea was the handholding?" Haymitch asks. He's drunk. Again. But this time, I don't really pay attention to it.

"Yours," I tell him simply, without any edge to my voice like there would usually be if Haymitch asked an idiodic question like that anytime else.

"Oh...very nice," Haymitch congradulates himself. I roll my eyes. "Okay," he says, standing and facing Peeta and I. "Tomorrow. Breakfast. Then I'll tell you how I want you to play it in the arena." Then he trudges off to his quarters. Effie, Portia, and Cinna quickly follow him, leaving only me and Peeta sitting on the couch.

"Do you think he'll remember?" I ask Peeta. "About telling us how we should play it?"

"I don't know," Peeta sighs. "We'll see tomorrow." He gets up and leaves. I hadn't thought of it before, but that was actually an ideal time for me to at least hint to Peeta how I feel. But I'm not the smartest when it comes to those sort of things.

I wonder into my quarters and undress. I put on a comfortable flowy white nightdress. I can't tell what the material is, but it's warm and feels nice against my skin. I climb into bed, exhausted. But no sleep comes. My mind refuses to settle down. Maybe it's the anxiety of the Games? Maybe it's the thought of Birch, lying in bed, crying for me? Maybe it's the worry that Haymitch won't be there to train us tomorrow? And maybe, I think, it's the simple regret of not having the stomach to tell Peeta what I think of him. He's good-looking, strong, shy, but more comfortable around people than I am, polite, funny, and he's absolutely hopeless. I spend hours making a list of what I like about Peeta, what I like about Haymitch, Effie, Portia, Cinna. Cinna was only my stylist, but he had the District 12 air to him, which made me feel like I could really trust him.

Finaly, I can stand it no longer. I push the covers of my bed aside and swing my feet over the side. I open my door cautiously, not wanting to disturb the others. I stare down the empty corridor, debating whether or not to step forward. If there's an Avox there on guard, well, it'll be akward. What would I say? _Hello, I couldn't sleep. I was too busy thinking about what I like about the boy I love. Don't mind me._

"Couldn't sleep?" I jump and quickly turn around. Then I relax. What a coincidence, it's Peeta.

"Obviously," I say. "What about you?"

"Too worried about the Games, I guess," Peeta shrugs.

"Me too..." I admit. "I don't know how I'm going to survive."

"I'll tell you," says Peeta, stepping toward me. "You climb a tree. You climb a tree and stay there, eat a raw squirell or two, and you pick off people with your arrows as the walk by."

"There's no guarentee there will be a bow and arrow, though," I say. Haymitch never said anything about a possibility that there might not be a bow and arrow, but I didn't know what to say, so I say that.

"There will be," says Peeta reassuringly. "Odds are, you won't be the only one who can shoot. But I doubt any of them have an aim like you do."

"What about you?" I demand, tired of being complimented on how strong I am, or how much of an aim I have. "What are you going to do?"

"Well, considering there won't be any bags of flour..." he says.

"There'll be rocks. Heavy rocks, with the same weight as the flour. You can use them easily," I tell him. "And you can wrestle, can't you?" Peeta came in second in the championship of our school's wrestling team.

"Come on, Briar. How often do you see people wrestling each other to death?" he asks.

"There's always hand-to-hand combat. Just get your hands on a knife and you'll be fine," I explain. I feel like I'm his mentor, instead of Haymitch.

Clearly wanting to change the subject, he asks, "Have you ever seen the roof?" I shake my head. And I realize, that may be the only place not under any type of surveilance. "Can we just go up?" I ask.

"Sure, come on," says Peeta. He leads to to the end of the corridor, to a small door. It's not glamorous like the others. It must be a room where they keep the cleaning supllies. Peeta pulls it open, and I see a trapdoor above my head. He yanks it open and I feel a cool breeze drifting through the opening. We climb up the ladder that hangs from the trapdoor into a dome shaped room. The dome is made of clear crystal, like the elevator. We step through another opening in the dome, and I'm taken back by how much the air smells like home, sort of musty and with the lingering scent of flowers and berries.

Peeta and I walk along the edge of the roof, looking down at all the people below us. It's clear that they're having a party, celebrating our arrival. I feel honored at first, but then I realize, having a party because of our arrival is only because we're part of the Games, and they're going to enjoy watching us die. I step away from the railing, sickened by their happy faces and laughter, all because of our almost guarenteed death.

"I asked Cinna why they let people up here. Weren't they worried that some of the tributes might just jump right off the edge," says Peeta.

"What'd he say?" I ask.

"You can't," he says. He holds out his hand and I see an electrical current sweep aross the entire side of the roof and zap his hand back. "There's some sort of electrical force field that pushes you back."

"Always worried about our safety, huh?" I shake my head. Jumping over the edge would be an easy escape for any tributes driven mad with the thought of being calously murdered. "Do you think they're watching us now?"

"Maybe," he admits. Then he extends his hand. "Come see the garden."

I take his hand and he leads me to a beautiful area, a garden. A very large one. There are even a few trees intermixed with the arrangement of flowers. Again I feel like I'm back in the forest with Gale and Katniss. I breath in the scents that remind me of home. Especially the flowers, because in the forest, there's a clearing, just a mile from the district's fence which is meant to keep us all in. That clearing is filled with beautiful flowers like these. I close my eyes, and sigh as my memories take me to another day in the forest...

_"Gale! Where are you? I give up!" I'm shouting at the top of my lungs. Gale and I are playing hide and seek, for old times' sake. When we were kids, we loved that game because there were so many different places to hide. "There's no giving up!" I hear Gale answer back. I listen for where the sound came from, but can't locate it. His voice seems to be echoing around the whole forest, bouncing off the trees and through the leaves. "Come on, keep looking!" he urges me. I sigh and start running through the woods again, keeping my eyes open for any sign that Gale has been this way. At last I find it, a piece of black hair snagged on a low hanging branch. I slow down to a light jog, confident that I can keep going for a long amount of time. I turn my head from side to side, stopping occasionally to search behind rocks and up in trees for Gale. I start running again and suddenly he jumps out in front of me, and I barrel into him. We go tumbling down a small hill, and we finally land in a small patch of flowers. "I got tired of waiting," Gale tells me. "If you would've been patient for one more minute, I would've found you," I say. "Doubt it," Gale says playfully. "Wanna bet?" I growl with the same amount of playfullness. "Sure thing," says Gale, holding out his hand. We shake. I'm not sure what we've bet exactly, but it doesn't matter. Gale never keeps up with the bets we make, so even he wins, he doesn't hold it against me..._

"Do you like it?" Peeta's voice brings me back to the present.

"It's beautiful," I tell him. "It reminds me of home."

"Me too," says Peeta.

Suddenly, I start telling Peeta about all the times I've smelt all the different flowers that are in the forest. I tell him about going out once with Katniss, and finding a small pond with a billion water lilies. I tell him about the time I've spent with Gale in the forest when Katniss was home sick or at school. Gale and I have a reputation for skipping school together. It's almost like a tradition we have. Birch always tells me not to, and when I do, he scolds me, but I know he honestly doesn't care because he says that school doesn't get you anywhere in life unless you're going to be a Capitol official, which I would never dream of. I tell Peeta all of it, my adventures with Gale, my summer days with Katniss, my quiet Sundays with Birch.

"You spend a lot of time with Gale?" Peeta asks nonchalantly.

"Well, yeah," I say. "I love him. He's like another brother I have." Immediately I regret saying 'I love him' because I've pretty much just stated what Peeta suspected. Adding 'He's like another brother I have' must have pulled it back though, right? Wrong. Peeta lingers on the fact that me and Gale spend enormous amounts of time together.

"That's nice," is all he says.

"And then there are the days I spend with you," I say, easing off of the thought of Gale. "All those weekends, and the few days that I'm actually in school." I sigh. I never thought I'd miss school, but right now, I'd rather be there than here in the Capitol. "But we've never gone in the forest together..."

"I'm not much for the woods," Peeta says.

"Well, it's odd that I never mentioned taking you with me the next time I went hunting," I say thoughtfully.

"I know why you didnt," says Peeta. I look at him, confused. "It's yours and Gale's place, that's why."

"You know, Katniss and I have spent time in there together too," I remind him. "Not just me and Gale."

"That's true," says Peeta. "But I bet it was the times with Gale you enjoyed most." I don't understand why he's lingering on the whole "me and Gale" situation when I'm clearly trying to redirect the conversation to him and I.

"Yeah? And who says it isn't the time I spend with you that I enjoy most?" I retort. "Who ever told you that?"

There's a short pause. "You really enjoy the time you spend with me?" Peeta asks quietly.

"More than you can know," I mutter. Peeta doesn't catch it, thankfully. "Yes, I do. They're different from the times I spend with Katniss and Gale. They're...special." I've been using that word a lot.

"Special?" Peeta says. "Like...what kind of special?" I want to tell him to stop lingering on all the subjects I don't like to talk about with him.

"Like...the kind that makes you feel good on the inside, when your chest is all warm and fluttery." I tell him, cupping my elbows in hands and hugging myself. I really don't mean to explain it to him like that, but it comes out anyway. "You know what I mean?"

"Yeah, I know what you mean," says Peeta quietly. "I've been getting that feeling a lot lately." What he means by this, I can't say. Does he mean that he's been getting it a lot because he's been spending time with me? I can only hope. I'm not stupid. I know Peeta and I share a sort of romance. We've had it ever since we were kids, so in a way, it could easily be classified as no more than childhood affections. And how far will those get anyone, really? "Well...I think we should get to bed," Peeta says. "Goodnight, Briarose." And then he does something I never expected. He kisses me on the cheek. It's not a little "thanks-for-being-here" kiss, it's a real, genuine kiss.

"Goodnight, Peeta..." I beathily respond. After Peeta goes back down the trapdoor, I remain on the roof for another moment or two. I think about Peeta, him being so concerned with the time I spent will Gale, accusing me of enjoying the days I spent with Gale more than the days I spent with him, saying that he gets the fluttery feeling I described a lot nowadays, the kiss. It's all happening so fast. Maybe too fast? Maybe not. And yet, I welcome it with open arms.

The next morning I wake up to, surprisingly, the sound of nothing. No one seems to be awake or stirring yet and I wonder what time it is. The sun is shining through my window, so it can't be that early. I take a quick shower, choosing a lilac scented soap to wash my hair. I step out and onto the mat that dries you off. Then I dress in a mint green dress that hangs at my knees and open my door, heading for the dining room. Not two seconds after I open my door, I'm shoved by Peeta. Not intentionally, of course.

"Sorry, Briar," he says apologetically.

"It's fine," I say brushing myself off. "I've been running into you a lot lately."

"Our rooms are right next to each others, so..." says Peeta.

"I mean, I've been seeing you more than I've seen Haymitch or Effie," I say.

"Is that a problem?" asks Peeta.

"No," I tell him. "Not at all." He smiles and we walk to the dining room. There's no sign of Haymitch, but the loud slam of a door behind us tells me that he's coming.

"Morning, my lovelies," he says. I look at him, expecting to see a drunken mess, as he always is when he calls us "lovelies", or "sunshines". But he seems shockingly sober. _Good. _

"Morning, Haymitch," I say. We sit down together and eat. Lamb and stew. Not a meal exactly for breakfast, but I don't complain. As soon as Haymitch finishes his plate, he sighs and pushes it away from him. "Okay," he says. "Let's get down to business. First, I can coach you alone or I can coach you seperately. Pick one."

"Why would you coach us seperately?" I ask.

"Say you had a secret talent that you didn't want the other to know about," says Haymitch. He picks up a glass and takes a sip, but it's not filled with any sort of fancy vodka or wine. It's just orange juice.

"I guess you can coach us together," says Peeta. "I don't really have any secret talents. And I already know yours. I've eaten plenty of your squirells."

"It would be easier," I tell Haymitch.

"Okay," he says. "Now tell me what I have to work with. I know you're pretty handy with a knife, princess." He looks at me and I grin, rubbing it in that I cut his hair and made it look lopsided. We already went through what our strengths were, but Haymitch was probably too drunk to remember that now.

"Like I said, Briar can shoot," says Peeta. "She's excellent."

"And Peeta is strong," I say to Haymitch, who's paying attention this time. "Really strong."

"I'm not that strong," he says, but the muscles bulking out under his shirt make it obvious he's just being modest.

"Yes, you are, Peeta," I say impatiently.

"Oh, you definitely are, hot stuff," Haymitch says to Peeta. I laugh, because Haymitch seems to have an infinite amount of nicknames for us. "Okay, children," he says, clapping his hands together. "Briar, here's what I want you to do." I nod. "There's no true guarentee that there will be a bow and arrows in the arena. But during your private session with the Gamemakers, give it your all. Show them what you can do, sweetheart. Until then, stear clear of the archery. Got it? Good. Are you good with snares?"

I have to think on that. Gale showed me a few two summers ago, and I've been building and resetting them ever since, but is that going to be enough in the arena? "I know some basic ones," I finally say.

"Ah, that may be significant to your survival, though," Haymitch reminds me. "And Peeta. I don't ever want to hear that again, got it? You need to stop undergrading yourself, and just accept what advantages you have. They'll have weights in the private sessions, but don't you dare show the other tributes what you can do before you need to. Learn some new things instead. Throw a spear, swing a mace, try your hand at the camoflauge center. Understand?" We nod. "Good," Haymitch says, satisfied. "Oh, one more thing. In public, I want you by each other's side every minute." I start to say something, but Haymitch glares at me. "Every minute!" he says, shoving a roll into his mouth. "Now both of you, try to act amiable of each other! Meet Effie at ten for training." He gets up, takes one last sip of orange juice, and leaves.

"It won't be an effort to act amiable to Peeta," I call after him. He waves me off and disappears into his room. I sigh. "Why does he assume everything that's going to come out of my mouth is an objection?"

Peeta shakes his head. "I don't know," he says.

"He seems to prefer you over me," I say looking at my hands.

"Are you joking?" When I shake my head, Peeta insists, "He likes you way more that he likes me. He punched me in the cheek, after all." He shows me his cheek with faint traces of a bruise still left.

"That's only because he was drunk," I tell him.

"No," says Peeta. "He likes you more. It might look like he hates you, but that's only because you're so alike."

I retreat to my room and clean my teeth and smooth my hair down, then put it in a surprisingly neat ponytail. I feel anxtiety rising up in my chest at the thought of meeting with the other tributes. I go to the elevator where Peeta and Effie are waiting for me. The training rooms are underground, below all the other levels. It's a huge gymnasium filled with different weapons and training courses. It's not ten yet, but we're the last ones to arrive. The other tributes are gathered in a menacing circle, sizing each other up, picking their next opponent. I notice that Peeta and I are the only ones dressed alike.

A tall woman, the head trainer probably, steps into the middle of our circle and explains the training schedule. The trainers are to remain in one section of the training room. We go to each trainer, per our mentor's instructions. We are forbidden to engage in any combative actions with another tribute. If we want a partner to train with, there are assistants at hand.

When she begins to read a long list of the different training sections, my eyes flit to every other tribute around me. Some are two if not three times my size. I seem to be the smallest one there, until I see a young girl smaller than me. She must be only twelve, maybe thirteen, with dark skin, dark eyes, and dark hair. I think she's from District 11. She sees me and I quickly look away. I can't help pitying her. Being forced to participate in the Games, at the age of twelve, it must be hard.

I catch the eyes of many other tributes trained on me and Peeta. They're jealous of us, because our entrance stole attention from them. Already I can tell, I'm in trouble and the odds are definitely not in my favor. When the head tribute finally releases us, the others scatter and head for the deadliest looking weapons, handling them with ease.

Peeta nudges my arm. "Are we supposed to stay together here too?" he asks.

I shrug. "If you want to," I say. "If you can keep up, you're welcome to join me," I whisper into his ear.

I look around, trying to pick out what would be beneficial for me, without making me look like too much of an easy target. And I spot it. All along the ceiling, there are nets hanging from the top. I see small handlebars leading up to the very top. I decide to start there. As I walk toward the bars, I see every eye on me, wondering what the girl who was on fire is going to do next. Intimidated, I hurredly look away and quietly make my way to the nets.

I find I can mount the handlebars with ease, even though they swing at the slightest movement. They a_re _like swings. There's manyof them hanging down from the nets, and I guess it's an option to swing from one to another, like a monkey. I climb onto the net, which is extremely unstable. I get to my feet, finding my balance first, and then I take off. Running, jumping, and dodging around the many moving obstacles that threaten to unbalance me and send me flying off the net. I skip around them easily, until the entire net is set completely on fire.

This is a problem I don't know how to avoid. Then I look up. There are multiple rungs hanging down from the ceiling, allowing me to jump up to them and swing away from the fire. Constantly swinging and jumping from branch to branch in the forest looking for voles, I swing from each rung with no trouble at all. The other tributes were watching me with envious eyes. I feel their gaze burning into me. After finishing the course, I jump down from the nets and turn to the other tributes. I decide to rub it in their faces, though I know this isn't the smartest thing to do. I smile a smile that provokes them because it's so adorably threatening. They're not sure whether to be intimidated by it, or to be happy because I don't seem like a direct threat. I hoped they would leave me alone due to the small threat I seem to pose because of my size. But after performing the course with such finality, I'm not sure I seem like that anymore.

I walk away from the course toward Peeta. He's in another section, painting his arm. The craftmanship of the art is staggering. The colors on one side are darker than the other, hinting the sun is hiting on the opposite side. His arm is almost identical to a tree's bark. He puts it against a tree and it disappears completely. "I used to do the cakes," he admits, noticing me watching him.

"What cakes?" I ask stupidly.

"At home. I do the icing for the cakes," he tells me.

He means the cakes that are displayed in the window of the bakery. They're really beautiful. They have specially designed ones for New Year's, Harvest Day, Christmas. And I suddenly realize, Peeta is the one who designed them all. "You're really talented," I tell him.

"And you think you're not?" he asks. "You conquered that course, and you made it look so easy."

I shrug. "I've been doing stuff like that my whole life," I say. That, of course, only impresses him more.

Over the next few days, Peeta and I stick together most of the time. Not because Haymitch told us to, but because we just want to. We do pick up some valuable skills, though, like how to start a fire quicker, and making shelter. I don't think I'll have much use in learning how to build a shelter. Mostly, I think I'll stay in the trees like Peeta suggested. Despite Haymitch's orders to appear mediocre, Peeta excels through hand-to-hand combat and I sweep through the knife throwing without even thinking about it. I don't tell anyone this, especially Peeta, but the only reason I'm so good at knife throwing is because Gale taught me when we were twelve. Still, I think we've done well at hiding out skills, because Peeta hasn't even looked at the weights, and I haven't touched even one arrow.

One day I notice the Gamemakers watching us. Turns our they've been watching the whole time and I wonder if they saw when I made it through the nets. Sometimes they take time to call us over and ask one or two questions. They talk with out mentors during meals too. We see them all gathered together when we come back from training. During breakfast and dinner we eat on our own floors. But lunch is served to us in the gymnasium. The Career Tributes all sit together, looking like a ferocious pack of wolves in a way. No one else sits near each other. Except me and Peeta. We try to make small talk like Haymitch ordered, but somehow, the conversation is always redirected to what we'll do if we're the last two left in the arena. I don't like talking about this. It makes me uncomfortable to think that Peeta keeps offering himself up so I can go home. But honestly, it wouldn't matter if I did kill him and went home. It would'nt really be home with out him.

The next day, I notice Peeta hanging from a wobbly rope ladder with one of the trainers, acting as the enemy, waiting for him to fall. He's already losing his grip, when one of the Careers decides to throw a spear at him, missing by an inch. I'm certain that if they intented to kill him, he'd be dead. But it doesn't matter. Peeta loses his grip and falls onto the mat under the ladder with a small grunt. He sits up and glances at the group of Careers laughing at him. I drop my sword that I've been scewering dummies with and go over to him. "Use the weights," I tell him in a hushed voice to the Careers won't hear.

"But Haymitch said-" he starts to protest.

"I don't care what Haymitch said," I interupt. "Right now, those guys are looking at you like you're a meal." I glare at the Careers. "Throw one of the weights. Now."

Peeta hesitates, but then gets to his feet. He picks up one of the weights labelled "100" for how much it weighs. He winds up and throw it straight at one of the dummies, taking its head clean off its body. He turns to me. I nod, smiling. Then I see the Careers. They're standing back now, a good distance away from Peeta, as if they're afraid they'll have the same fate as the dummy if they get too close to him. _Good, _I think. _They _should _be afraid of him._ Maybe I should be too, but I can't bring myself to fear him at all.

Peeta and I stand next to each other, trying our hand at spear throwing, which I'm not bad at if I don't have to throw too far. I probably owe this talent to Gale too, even though we used knives, not spears. How different are they, really? Then Peeta leans over to me and whispers, "I think you have a shadow." I look behind me and I see the little girl from District 11 staring at me from behind a practice dummy. She watches me and Peeta on her tiptoes, with her arms extended forward slightly, and I can't help but think of a bird about to take flight.

I pick up another spear and throw it, nailing our practice dummy right between the eyes. "I think her name is Rue," says Peeta.

"Well, what do you want me to do about it?" I ask, more harshly than I intended.

"Nothing to do," says Peeta. "Just trying to make conversation." I feel bad that I snapped at him, but being followed by people annoys me, no matter who it is. I feel like they're depending on me, and I feel like I'll let them down.

Finally the day comes when we're called for our private sessions with the Gamemakers. We're scored on a scale of 1 to 12, 12 being the best, 1 being the worst. District by district, first the girl tribute, then the boy, we're called down to the gymnasium. District 12 is scheduled to go last, as usual. I begin to pace in the small confinement area we're to wait in. I start biting my finger nails. What if the Gamemakers hate me? What if they score me so low, I'll look like the easiest prey in the world? Or what if they score me too high, and I seem like a threat, therefore, being the target of every other tribute in the arena? I stop pacing and sit down next to Peeta. He puts his arm protectively around me.

"You need to talk?" he asks. He's so kind I can't stand it.

"No..." I say. Then I correct myself. "Yes, actually."

"Go on," says Peeta.

"I'm just scared that the Gamemakers might hate me and score me really low or they might score me too high. Either way, I'm a goner," I say pitifully. I put my head in between my knees.

"Don't worry about that, Briar," Peeta tells me. "They'll give you a perfect score, not too low, not too high. What's so bad about being scored high?"

"If they give me a, say, 12, people will think I'm a threat. Which, maybe I want to be considered a threat, but that'll make me the first person to come to mind when thinking about who to kill of first. Because I'm a threat to the others."

"Briar, don't worry about that. If you do get confronted, you'll be able to fight them off easily," says Peeta reassuringly. "You're stronger than they are. You are." These are the exact words that Gale said to me when we were in the Districthouse saying goodbye. "And I won't let anything happen to you, even if it costs me my life."

"Peeta-" I begin, but my name is called over the loudspeaker in our chamber.

"Shoot straight," Peeta says. I nod. I don't know why I didn't say anything, but I don't. Maybe because I didn't really know what to say back.

As I walk to the gymnasium, I think about what Peeta said. _I won't let anything happen to you, even if it costs me my life._ Did he honestly mean it? Or would he back out if the time actually came in the arena? I would easily give my life for Peeta. I was sure of that.

I enter the gymnasium and they ask me for my name. "Briarose Antigone," I answer. They all nod and tell me to "get to it". I nod back and head, just as planned, to the archery station. Oh, the weapons! The famliarity of the bow in my hand and the arrows at my fingers! This bow isn't like the ones at home, though. This one is made of silver and it's a lot heavier than the wood ones I use. Still, I do a few practice shoots with it, and I'm ready to go. First, I shoot a practice dummy from 50 yards and nail it square in the chest. Next, I shoot a rope which holds a heavy weight in the air. It plummets to the ground and makes a loud bang, leaving an indentation in the marble floors. And then, a twist.

One of the assistants, dressed in thick padding to protect his body, comes charging at me with a sword in hand. I quickly hop out of the way onto one of the podiums used for scaling practice. The assistant is confused for a moment at where I've gotten to, and a moment is all I need. I send the arrow flying into his back, and if he was unpadded, his spine. Then a second one follows, striking him in the chest, because he made the mistake of turning around to face me. He sinks to the floor, like he's really been killed by my arrows.

I look to the Gamemakers for their approval. They clap for me, but some of them, including the one I wanted the attention of most, Seneca Crane, the head Gamemaker, is distracted by the large pig that has been brought in."What a fat pig!" he says. _What a fat pig, indeed, _I think. And before I can think, an arrows shoots from my bow, ripping the apple that sat in the pig's mouth away and pinning it to the wall behind the Gamemakers. They're silent and staring at me in disbelief. "Thank you for your consideration," I hiss, bowing politely. Then I put down my bow, drop my remaining arrows, and walk out the door, not feeling any remorse or reason to turn around.

I return to my quarters on the twelfth floor without even looking at Haymitch and Effie who are sitting on the coach watching another replay of our entrance into the Capitol. "How'd it go?" Haymitch asks, but I ignore him and head straight to my room, slamming the door. Then I lay on the bed thinking about the private session. How could I have been so stupid to shoot an arrow at the Gamemakers? What was I thinking? I know the answer. I wasn't. I was so enraged that I was being upstaged by a pig. What will they do to me now? Arrest me? Execute me? I hadn't tried to kill any of them; if I had, they'd be dead. They can't punish me for that...can they? If I explain to them that I only wanted their attention, they couldn't kill me for that. I should have stayed an apologized. Or laughed like it was a big joke. Then maybe I would've had some leniency. But instead I stalked out of the gymnasium without being dismissed.

When Effie calls me down for dinner, I decide I might as well go. The scores we recieve will be televised and we're to watch them together. It's not like I can hide what happened forever. I go to the bathroom and wash my face off.

Everyone's waiting at the table, including Cinna and Portia. I wish the stylists hadn't decided to come. For some reason, I don't want to disappoint them. Maybe it's because they were the ones that kept us alive in the entrance to the Capitol. It's have if I've thrown away all they've done for us. I make my way to the table, avoiding anyone's gaze.

The adults begin to talk about the weather, and I look at Peeta, knowing seeing his face will comfort me. He raises his eyebrows as if asking "What happened?". I give my head a small shake. Then as they're serving the main course, Haymitch asks, "Okay, enough small talk. Just how bad were you two?"

Peeta jumps in, saving me from having to admit what happened. "It didn't even matter. By the time I got there, they were too busy singing some drinking song to even look at me. So I just threw some weights around until they told me I could go."

"Hmm," says Haymitch. "And you, buttercup?"

"I shot an arrow at the Gamemakers," I mutter as I pick at my dinner.

"Sorry, love?" asks Haymitch, tilting his head toward me.

"I shot an arrow at the Gamemakers!" I say, completely losing my patience. "Got that, Haymitch?"

Everyone stops eating. Then Effie shrieks, "You what?"

I sigh. "I shot an arrow at them. Not directly at them, but towards them. I was aiming for the pig, because no one was paying attention to me. It's like Peeta said, no one bothered to pay attention, except for a few. So, to get their undivided attention, I shot the apple from the pig's mouth that seemed so important to them," I tell them in an almost mocking voice.

"What did they say?" asks Cinna. They're all crowded around me know, like children around a fireplace when their mother is about to tell them a story.

"Nothing. At least, I don't think so," I say. "I left after that."

"Without being dismissed?" Effie gasps.

I shrug. "I dismissed myself," I say defiantly.

"There's nothing we can do now, Effie. No sense in buttering her with questions," says Haymitch.

"Do you think they'll arrest me? Or execute me?" I ask quietly.

"They can't!" Peeta exclaims. "They can't just do that!" He's standing now, right next to me. I feel as though he actually cares about me being arrested or not.

"They could," Haymitch tells him easily. "But I don't think they will, sweetheart. Don't you worry. It'd be a pain to replace you now, and I think they'd much rather make your life hell in the arena."

"They've already promised that, though, haven't they?" Peeta points out.

"True," says Haymitch. He rips of a chunk of pork chop and dips it in his wine. Effie shudders. "What were their faces like?" he asks, examining the pork.

A smile comes across my face. "Terrified. They didn't know what had just happened." We all laugh, except for Effie. She's smiling though.

"It's a good thing you did do that," she says. "It's their job to pay attention to you. And just because you're from District 12 is no reason to ignore you."

"I'll get a terribly low score," I say grimly.

"Scores only matter if they're high. People don't pay attention to the low ones," says Haymitch. "You could be hiding a secret skill, for all they know, to get a low score on purpose. People use that stradegy, making youself look weak, then coming out and dominating the arena." This makes me relax a little. Maybe I still have a chance.

"I hope that's how people interpret the four I'll probably get," says Peeta. I can tell he's only lying to make me feel better. But I don't mind. "Really, all I did was throw a few heavy things around."

"You'll get a beautiful score," I tell him.

"Maybe," he says

After dinner, we all go to the sitting room to see what out scores were. I'm not particularly loving the suspense, since District 12 is last, as always. Peeta's score comes first. His face flashes on the screen for a moment, then the number eight appears beside him. "Eight!" I exclaim. "I told you!" I say this almost in a mocking way. I don't mean to. Everyone's patting Peeta on the back and saying "Good job!" and things of that sort. I hug him around the neck and he hugs back.

Then it's my turn. I stop breathing. Haymitch's words of encouragement seem to have only lasted through dinner. Now, I'm terrified of what number will appear beside my profile. I see my face on the television...I close my eyes. When I reopen them, the number eleven is shining next to my picture.

Eleven? How did that happen?

Effie lets out a squeel and everyone is hugging me and congratulating me and Peeta kisses me on the cheek again.

It doesn't seem real. I thought for sure the Gamemakers would have scored me lower, much lower. "Eleven, kid!" Haymitch yells. "That's great!" Then he picks me up and swings me around.

"But there must be a...a mistake," I say after he's put me down. "How could that happen?"

"I guess they liked your temper," says Peeta, giving me a shove.

"They need someone with heat in them," Haymitch puts in.

"Briarose, the girl who was on fire!" Cinna says. "Wait until you see what I've designed for your interview!"

"Oh...more flames?" I ask.

"Of a sort," he says mischeviously.

Peeta and I congradulate each other again, and again he kisses me. We both got excellent scores, but what does that mean for the other? A better score means a better opponent...

I remember the talk we had about being the last two in the arena. He had told me to kill him if the situation ever presented itself. But I know I couldn't ever do that. Still, Peeta and I seemed to share a bond. An obvious one, apparently, since Haymitch has mentioned it to me on countless occasions, telling me how it's good to see us "playing the part" even when we don't need to. I try to tell him I'm not playing a part, but he stumbles off before I can.

I start to wonder about Peeta kissing me so many times. He got a score of eight, which is great. Is this what his stradegy is? To get me on his side, and then, when the time is right, kill me? He wouldn't. Would he? Peeta doesn't seem like the type to pull something like that. Besides, he told me he would protect me with his life. Doesn't that count for something?

All these thoughts buzz around my head as I climb into bed. I'm ready to fall asleep after the exhausting day, but of course, I'm not even aloud that. There's a knocking on my door. "Briar?" I hear from outside my door. It's Peeta, but I really don't want to leave the warmth of my bed. "Oh, just...just, come in!" I yell back. By this time, I really have zero patience left for any visitors. I sigh. "Yes, Peeta?"

"Do you want to go to sleep?" he asks. I realize my tone may not have been the friendliest.

"No, it's fine," I tell him. "What d'ya need?"

"Nothing, really. I mean, nothing serious. Just...someone to talk to, as usual," says Peeta.

"Okay," I say. "About what?"

"Anything," he says. So I say the first thing that comes to mind.

"Have you noticed we've been having a lot of nighttime conversations?" I ask.

"I know," says Peeta. "I like having them with you. You're good at giving advice when I need it."

"Is that why you came? Do you need advice?" I can't help being a little disappointed. Peeta only comes to me when he needs advice? That's how it seems.

"No," Peeta shakes his head and looks at his hands. "I just...I wanted to see you, while you're still you."

"What do you mean?" I ask, confused.

"Tomorrow and the next day, we'll be all glittered up and have a ton of makeup on," Peeta says. _No kidding, _I think. "It's not that you don't look beautiful with the makeup on, but...you look prettier when you don't have anything covering your face. You know, natural."

I smile at him, the kind of smile only he can bring out of me. Then I put my head down, letting my hair drape down in front of my face. Peeta thinks it's because I'm trying to hide my "natural beauty", but really, I'm blushing so hard that I can pratically see the heat coming off my cheeks. "Thanks," is all I manage to get out. It sounds terrible. Peeta keeps complimenting me on everything I do, and I can't come up with one good thing to say to him.

"Well, goodnight, Briar," says Peeta after a short pause.

"Peeta, wait," I call to him as he's almost out the door. "Um...thanks. For...just for everything." Then, playfully, I smile the cutest smile I can get out and I bat my long eyelashes at him. He smiles back and walks out the door.

It's long before morning and I lie in my bed, already awake. It's Sunday, a rest day in District 12, and I wonder what Gale is doing right now, and Katniss, and Birch. Gale is probably just waking up. We always do that. We wake up early on Sundays because we usually take that day as an oppurtunity to stock up for the week. We spend the entire day hunting, trapping, trading.

Katniss isn't awake yet, though she too wakes up early with Gale and I to go hunting. And then I wonder, how will they get on without me? I expect Katniss has taken over my shifts of checking and resetting the traps and Gale knows where I keep my bow and arrows, so he probably uses them when he can. I just hope he replaces the ones he uses, or at least salvages them from the animals he hits.

All of us are extraordinary hunters alone, but together, we're ideal for hunting bigger game, like deer and once, even a moose. It had wandered into our part of the woods during wintertime, and Gale, Katniss, and I siezed the oppurtunity to bring in more profit than usual, some for the meat, some for the skins, some especially for the antlers. They were magnificent on the animal, but they jabbed and poked at our legs and sides as we dragged it through the snow to the district fence. Of course we would share all of the profit made from the moose amongst ourselves. This is a system me and Gale designed one day when Katniss was in school. We would each vow to protect each other, each other's families, and each other's property. Protecting meant feeding as well.

Hunting together with each other made the task of feeding our families almost arduous. I close my eyes and drift into sleep once again for a short amount of time. My dreams are filled with memories of District 12, flashbacks of sort.

_It was early winter. I had just begun learning to hunt on my own while Birch was in the mines. Since he had to work there, he obviously couldn't hunt too. So I picked up that task instead. I had been struggling on my own, since I basically had to teach myself to use a bow and arrow. Birch couldn't; he was too busy in the mines. I picked it up fast, but I still wasn't as good as I am now. I was wandering through the woods looking for more game to shoot, when all of a sudden, the tree two inches left of my head is pierced by a throwing knife. I immediately turn around and aim my loaded bow in the general direction it came from. Then I see another knife coming for me, and this time, I see the thrower. I duck out of the way of the knife and let my arrow fly. It swishes through the air and catches my attacker on his right arm. It doesn't pierce his skin, but I didn't try to. It's just gone through his clothes, pinning him to the tree he was hiding behind. I take another arrow from my quiver and start cautiously toward the tree. I expect to see a fully grown bitter man, but it's a boy. My age, which is twelve at the time. He just looks at me. He's not afraid of me; somehow he knows I don't intend to kill him or hurt him. Though, now I've got him pinned, I could easily shoot him._

_ "Hiya," he says. "Good shot." _

_ "Thanks," I say back, unable to be sure of what to make of him. _

_ "Don't think I'm rude for not asking your name, but do you mind first letting me lose?" the boy asks. I reach over and pull the arrow from the tree, careful not to damage the shaft. "Okay, so what _is _your name?" _

_ "Briarose. Briarose Antigone," I tell him, lowering my bow. "Yours?"_

_ "Gale Hawthorne," he says. _

_ "Nice name," I admit. _

_ "Your's too, Rosy," says Gale, pulling my new nickname right off the top of his head. "It's real classic."_

_ "I don't kow anyone else with the name 'Briarose'," I tell Gale. "So it's not that classic."_

_ "Are you always this technical?" he asks. I see his eyes. They're gray. _

_ "Sometimes." Then I laugh. "You're alright." _

_ "So are you," says Gale. "I could teach you to use those throwing knives." _

_ I look at the tree with Gale's knife still embedded in the bark. And then I notice how skillfully it was put in. The bark around the blade wasn't damaged at all. _

_ "Okay," I say turning back Gale. "I could sew your shirt back for you." _

_ "Good deal," he says, a little sarcastic. I smile, because I know Iv'e found a hunting partner. _

From then on, him teaching me how to throw a knife, me sewing his shirtsleeve back, Gale and I did everything together. We hunted, ate, went to trade together. I eventually taught Gale how to use a bow and arrow and, after we finally met at the age of thirteen, I taught Katniss too. She had already been taught by her father before he died, so I didn't have to show her much. That's one thing we all share in common. We're all fatherless.

I wake up and I start thinking about how Gale and Katniss are handling it. Me being taken away to the Hunger Games and all. Do they miss me? Do they even notice I'm gone? They must. I'm their best friend. They must think about me sometime.

I think of the eleven flashing beside my face last night. I think of how they would ave reacted. I can see Katniss congradulating me and hugging me. And I can see Gale, smiling at me, and saying jokingly, "Well, there's room for improvement there." And then he'd smile, and then I'd smile back without hesitation. I sit up. I look for Gale's face, though I know he's no where near here. And I don't want him to be. I want him to be safe in District 12, like he is. I still wish I could at least see him and talk to him for a little while. I hate feeling so alone. I hate the fact that I'm wishing it were Gale here, and I'm not wishing for Birch, my own brother. But it's different when you're actually related to a person. No matter who else comes into my life, Gale will always be the first person I ever cared about.

Effie's pounding on my door, demanding that I come out this instant. I guess she's been knocking for a while, and I just haven't heard her. I go to my door and hastily open it. "What?" I almost yell in her face.

"Come on, up, up, up. We've got a big, big, big day ahead of us!" she says. I really wish she'd stop saying words three times in a row.

I get up and take a quick shower. Then I dress in a light yellow shirt and brown pants and go to breakfast. Peeta, Haymitch, and Effie are tallking in hushed voices, like they don't want me to hear. But my hunger overcomes my curiosity and I load up my plate before going to join them.

I begin eating and I realize, no one's talking. Which is odd, considering we have an interview tomorrow to train for. I shovel through my plate, take a sip of orange juice, and say, "You're coaching us on the interview today, right?"

"Yes," answers Haymitch. "But-"

"You don't have to wait for me. I can eat and listen at the same time," I say.

"There's been...a change in plans. About your current approach," Haymitch tells me slowly.

"What is it?" I ask, taking another sip of orange juice. I try to guess what it is. Has Haymitch given up on us completely? Are we getting a new trainer? I don't want a new mentor. I liked having Haymitch as our mentor. I've grown quite fond of him, actually.

He shrugs. "Peeta's asked to be coached seperately."

I almost choke on my juice. Then I turn to Peeta. He's just sitting there, not daring to look at me. _Good._ Betrayal. That's the first thing that comes to mind. Betrayed by my best friend. I'm not particularly sad about it, I'm enraged.

"Well, is there something wrong with me?" I demand, standing and glowering over Peeta. "Am I too stupid or weak to keep up with you?"

"No! Not at all! It's just-" Peeta begins.

"It sure seems that way!" I shout.

"It's not! It's not like that! It's just...there's something that...Haymitch and I..." Peeta stammers.

"I can't believe this," I say through gritted teeth. But there's nothing I can do about it. "So what's the schedule now, Haymitch?" I growl, planting both hands on the table.

"You'll have four hours with Effie and four hours with me," Haymitch tells me. He's sitting up so straight in his chair, I can tell my outburst surpsrised him. "Peeta, come with me first. Briar, go with Effie. And try not to kill her." He says this like he thinks I'm insane.

I take one last gulp of orange juice, slam it down on the table, and storm away to my room with Effie following closely behind me. As I go to close the door behind her, I hear Peeta talking to Haymitch. "Do you think she'll forgive me?" he asks.

"She'd better," says Haymitch gruffly. Then he adds more gently, "Don't worry about it. If the kind of relationship you two have is real, she'll come around."

_And what relationship whould that be? _I ask Haymitch in my head. I close the door and I feel Effie pull on my shoulders, making me stand up straighter. "The first thing we need to work on is your posture," she tells me. I'm surprised. I thought my posture was pretty good, compared to some other girls I know. But Effie doesn't care. She keeps pulling on my shoulders, telling me to lift my head higher and puff out my chest.

Next she has me put on a long sweeping dress and high heels. When I say high heels, I mean high heels. They have to be at least 5 inches, maybe more. Effie instructs me to walk. I do. I find myself wobbling a bit, but after a few seconds, I have my balance, and I can even run in them easily. Back in District 12, I always needed balance, since I spent a lot of my time with Gale in the trees rather than on the ground.

I don't know how Effie walks around in these things full time. They pinch your toes, the squeeze your heels, and they make loud, obnoxious, pounding noises when you walk. The dress poses another problem. It keeps getting tangled around my heels, so I have to hike it up to my shins. "Not above the ankles!" screeches Effie. I immediately drop my dress, which again gets tangled around my heels.

I can feel my cheeks getting tired from smiling all the time per Effie's instructions. "Make the crowd be delighted by you," she tells me. So I flash the adorably threatening smile in her direction. "Not like that!" she snaps.

"How then?" I demand. "I can't pretend I like all of them when I really don't. I don't even know them."

"It's easy," says Effie. Then she puts on a huge smile. "See? Like this. I'm smiling at you even thought you're aggravating me."

"Well, you've been doing that you're entire life, since no one really even likes you!" I snap. Then I kick my heels off and stomp out of my room to the dining room, hiking my dress up to my thighs. I start feeling bad about snapping at Effie. But the thought quickly leaves my mind when I see Haymitch and Peeta. They seem in pretty good moods. "Hey, Briar," says Peeta cautiously. "Hey..." I say back, turning to the table with all the food. I pick up a plate and load it up. Then, when Peeta leaves, I sit in front of Haymitch. He frowns at me for a long time as I eat. I give him a few glares to tell him to stop, but he doesn't, so I finally say, "What? Do you have a problem with me eating?", shaking a roll in his face.

Haymitch shakes his head. "Just trying to figure out what to do with you," he says.

"What do you mean?" I ask impatiently.

"I mean, what should your approach be? Nice, funny, likeable, mysterious..." says Haymitch.

"Considering I don't want to be any of those things to that crowd, I don't know," I tell him.

"You're going to have to pick one," snaps Haymitch.

"Fine, then," I snap back. "Let's go with likeable."

"Wrong!" Haymitch says.

I lose my patience with him. I jump to my feet. "How could that be wrong?" I demand. "You told me to pick one, so I did! What else do you need?"

"I need you to pick a trait that you actually have," growls Haymitch. "You're not being very likeable now."

"Then you pick one! I give up!" I say, sitting back down and picking at my roll.

"Let's try being humble instead," Haymitch says, calming down.

"Humble..." I echo. "What about just being myself?"

"'Being yourself means being hostile," Haymitch tells me.

"Not all the time," I say defiantly.

"Whatever you say, sweetheart. Just act humble, will you? Like you can't believe a little girl from District 12 has done this well." I'm about to yell at Haymitch for calling me little, but I decide not to provoke him.

"Hmm, okay," I agree. We try this tactic for a while. Haymitch asks me questions, and I answer them as humbly as possible, trying to keep a smile on my face like Effie told me to. By Haymitch's expression, I can tell he isn't satisfied. I can't gush like he wants me to.

Over the next few hours, Haymitch tells me to try a bunch of different approaches. None of them work. I can't be cocky because I don't have the arrogance.I can't be mysterious, because I can't answer the questions _and_ leave the audience wondering. I can't be ferocious because I'm "too vulnerable".

"Well," says Haymitch, putting his arms behind his neck. "I give up, sweetheart."

"You can't just give up on me!" I cry. "I won't stand a chance without sponsors."

"Don't worry, buttercup. Just answer the question honestly, and you should be fine. We'll find out what your approach is then," Haymitch tells me.

In the morning, my prep team is standing over me. They greet me with "Good morning!" "How did you sleep?" "Are you hungry?" "Wait until you see your dress!". My dress! I then remember, my lessons with Haymitch and Effie are over. This day belongs to Cinna. I hope he can make me look so breathtaking, no one will care what comes out of my mouth.

The team spends the morning and early afternoon cleaning me up. They rub my body down with a sweet smelling oil, they comb my hair until it feels like silk, they stencile a few patterns on my arms, they paint light pink flames on my fingernails. Venia goes to style my hair. First she sprays it with a can containing glitter. It's a nice touch, actually. Everytime I move my head, my hair glistens under the light. She then pulls half of it up and leaves the other half down. She twists the upper half into complicated swirls. Venia sprays it one last time with the glitter, and then she lets me look in a mirror. My hair looks beautiful, gorgeous really. The glitter in my hair makes it look like it's on fire. The reddish-brown color my hair has only adds to the affect. I turn my head. The complicated swirls Venia made look like tiny little briar roses. I wonder whose idea it was, to interpret my name into my hair. And the ends of my hair are curled ever so slightly, which brings out the bone structure in my face. "It's amazing," I tell Venia.

Then they all go working on my face, covering it in a light mask of makeup. They shadow and they hightlight, particularly my cheekbones. I have naturally large cheekbones, and I can't imagine what they'll look like when the team is finished. They start applying bits of light brown and gold eyeshadow and some eyeliner, bringing out the green color my eyes have. Then they powder my body making my skin look absolutely flawless.

Cinna finally enters my room with what I can only assume is my dress. I can't see it; it's under a covering. "Close your eyes," Cinna instructs me. I close my eyes and feel my dress slipping over my body. I expect to feel weight drop down on my shoulders, but it doesn't come. This dress is surprisingly lightweight compared to the others. I take Venia's hand and step into a pair of shoes, much more comfortable than Effie's had been.

"Can I open my eyes yet?" I ask Cinna.

There's some adjustments, and then he says, "Yes, open them."

I look in the full-body mirror and gasp. My dress is stunningly beautiful. The color of it is a gorgeous shiny lilac. It hangs just below my ankles in such a way that I don't have to hike it up to walk. It's long and flows behind me when I walk, leaving a trail of flames behind it. Flames! These flames aren't red and yellow and orange like the ones I wore at the opening , the ones I'm wearing now match my dress, a soft purple that shines under any light that hits it. "Cinna," I breath. "Thank you."

"Twirl for me," Cinna says. I twirl and then ends of my dress extend outward and burst into flames, giving the affect that I'm being fully engulfed by them. My prep team gasps.

"Cinna, this is marvelous," I tell him.

He smiles. "So, all ready for that interview?" By his expression, I can tell he's been talking to Haymitch.

I frown. "I'm awful. We couldn't get an approach that fit me. Haymitch was about to give up on me, too," I tell Cinna.

"Why don't you just be yourself?" Cinna asks.

"Haymitch told me being myself means being hostile," I say bitterly.

"You'll do beautifully," Cinna says. "You aren't hostile to me. The prep team adores you, and you even won over the Gamemakers. You're the talk of the Capitol. Everyone admires your spirit." My spirit. I hadn't ever thought of people loving my spirit. I'm a friendly person when need be, but I don't particularly go around loving people I've never met. "Just answer the questions as honestly as you can."

"Okay. What about if what I think is horrible?" I ask.

"Say it," Cinna tells me simply.

It's time too go, a little too soon. The stage where we'll be interviewed in right outside the Training Center. Cinna and I walk to the elevator together. He's gives me words of encouragement, telling me to answer all the questions honestly, like I'm speaking to a friend. I just nod, because words won't come to my lips. I'm too nervous about the interview.

What if I can't speak on the stage? What if Caesar asks me a bunch of really personal questions, like if I have a boyfriend back home? What do I say to him then? I can't just tell him, "It's the boy who I'm being forced to fight in the arena.". And also, what if the crowd doesn't like me? Caesar not liking me, I can handle. But the audience, the people who I'll depend on in the arena, I need them. Cinna reminds me to be myself once again, and we step onto the elevator with the rest of the District 12 group.

Portia and the prep team have been hard at work. Peeta looks striking in his black suit. The bottoms of his pants and suitcoat are accented with flames, like my dress. His are realistically colored though, red and orange and yellow. I'm relieved we aren't dressed alike. I don't know why, but I am.

"You look beautiful," Peeta tells me, clearly trying to win me back. He beams at me. I decide it's time I forgave him, and give in to his compliments.

"Thanks," I say. And I can already feel my cheeks begin to flush a light pink. "You look very...handsome."

"Thanks." And that's all we say. I'm disappointed. I want to talk to him a little before our interviews, before I get too choked up with fear.

The minute the elevator lands on the ground floor, Peeta takes my hand and presses it against his lips. I smile, which I was unable to do before. I see Haymitch smiling down at me, as if saying "Good job. Keep it up.". I shake my head at him and turn back to Peeta.

"Good luck," Peeta says. "They're gonna love you. I know I do."

"They'll love you more," I tell him ernestly. Haymitch comes up next to me.

"If you're asked any questions about Peeta, answer them positively," he orders me.

"Obviously," I retort.

We walk to the stage, still holding hands. Although it's early evening, the stage is brighter than day. Brighter than my summer days with Gale. Then a thought comes to mind. Cinna told me to answer the questions like I was speaking to a friend. Why not pretend I'm talking to Gale? There's only one problem though; Gale would never be asking me any of the questions I'm going to be asked tonight. He already knows everything about me. Still, it's better than nothing. I'll pretend it's the winter day when I first met Gale, and he knew nothing about me except my name and that I had a great aim.

All the tributes walk, singlie-file, to the back of the stage where we're to wait until our interview time comes. The lights dim on the audience, the cameras turn on, and we're on the air. The girl from District 1, Glimmer is her name I think, is up. She walks easily along the stage, waving and smiling and blowing kisses to the crowd. I can tell she's going for a sexy approach, the way she stands and puffs our her chest. Caesar welcomes her, his blue hair and blue shiny suit attracting all eyes.

Each interview, thankfully, lasts only three minutes. A buzzer sounds after Glimmer's time is up, and the next tribute steps up. I'm surprised, but Caesar really tries to bring out the best in each tribute. He tries to set the nervous ones at ease, which I hope he'll do for me, since I can feel my hands shaking like they were when I volunteered for Prim at the reaping. I'm happy when Peeta comfortingly takes my hand again.

Everyone seems to have some approach. Everyone! Except me. I feel my palms starting to sweat, because the boy tribute from District 11 is on the stage, and the next person to go is me. Thresh, the boy from District 11, is huge. He can't be any less than six foot three, and all he appears to be made of is muscle. Compared to Rue, he could be a mountain and she could be a pebble.

They're calling my name. Caesar is already welcoming me onto the stage, beckoning to me. But I can't move. I don't even want to. That crowd is going to enjoy watching me die. Why should I show myself to them? Peeta gives me a shove, urging me on. He lets go of my hand and I ascend up the stairs to the stage. I manage to wave a bit, but quickly stop because I'm afraid my waving hand could easily turn into a fist at any moment. I shake Caesar's outstretched hand. He gasps as he sees the trail of purple flames I'm leaving behind me. Then, to really play it up, I spin around right center-stage letting the artificial flames engulf me. I hear _oohs _and _aahs _coming from the crowd. Caesar claps for me and I take a seat next to him.

"Beautiful dress, Briarose! Anyway, the Capitol, is it much of a change from District 12?" Caesar asks.

Is he joking? He has to be joking. District 12 is clearly not anything compared to here. "Well, Caesar," I say, stalling a little because I don't know how to explain to him. "The Capitol sure is an upgrade from Disrtict 12, but I'd choose there over here any day. It's where my friends are." This response gets some a_wws _from the audience. They think it's sweet for me to be so close to my friends that I'd give up luxury for them. Of course I would.

"Ah, I can understand that," says Caesar. "What's impressed you most since you got here?"

I have to think for a minute. "Definitely the fine, cultural artwork and construction around the Training Center. It's lovely," I respond, smiling. It's really not. It's a place where the other tributes practice slicing off each other's heads.

"The artwork _is _extremely cultrual," Caesar says. "Isn't it, folks?" The crowd roars in agreement and he turns back to me. "Now, Briarose, I couldn't believe my eyes when you came in through those doors at the opening ceremony. What did you think of the outfits?"

"Hmm, you mean after I got over the fear of being burnt alive?" I ask wittingly. Big laugh from the crowd and Caesar.

"Yes. Let's start there," he says.

_Gale, _I think. _Pretend like your telling Gale what you thought. _"I thought Cinna did a beautiful job at making me, and my fellow tribute, look as stunning as possible," I tell Caesar.

"Aha, speaking of your fellow tribute, Peeta Mellark," Caesar begins. _Damnit, _I think. How could I have been so stupid as to even mention Peeta? "How is he? Do you feel like he's a threat to you? Or do you feel confident you can win over him?"

"Well..." I say, looking at my hands, trying to think of what to say. "Well, um...Peeta's very..." I remember not to let any of his skills slip. "Well, I'm not exactly aloud to say, am I? But I can tell you that I think Peeta is definitely a threat to me." I don't mention Peeta being a threat to anyone else because I know the other tributes are watching me, and if I say that Peeta is strong and definitely a threat to them, he'll be one of the first people they hunt down.

"Oh, come on, I'm sure you could stand a chance against him," says Caesar. "You must have a strength above him."

"Mm, I'm not aloud to say, remember?" I say, nodding toward the Gamemakers sitting in their private box above the stage.

"You're absolutely right!" Caesar exclaims. Like I said, he tries to help you out. He helped me by not lingering on that subject of Peeta's stengths. "Let's go back then, to the moment they called the name 'Primrose Everdeen'. She's not related to you, correct? So what was going through your mind when you volunteered?"

"Prim is the sister of my best friend, Katniss Everdeen," I explain to Caesar. "So, in a way, she is like my sister."

"I see. And what did she say to you after the reaping?" Caesar asks.

"She asked me to try really hard to win, so I could come home," I say. "And I told her I would," I add icily.

"Briarose, you have a magnificant heart. To have the bravery to step between death and a friend, it's very brave. Very, very brave," Caesar says with his hand on his heart. "You must have a lot of courage."

"Only because of my brother, Birchfall," I say honestly. If it hadn't been for Birch, I'd have never had the need to learn how to hunt. So, in a way, I wouldn't be a tough as I am now.

"Oh, you have a brother?" Caesar says. "Wonderful. And what did he say to you after the reaping?"

"Well...he told me to stay strong. And to be myself. He said that doing that would keep me alive." I look down at my hands. I think of Birch, watching me on the television. What is he doing? Is he crying because he misses me? Is he not crying because he's still upset that I volunteered?

"You must miss him," Caesar says sympathetically. The crowd murmurs, moved with pity for me. "What about your parents? What did they say to you?"

A knife stabs my heart. But instead of leaving a wound, it only makes me angry. "They're dead," I tell Caesar harshly. "Both of them."

"Oh, I'm terribly sorry. Truly, I am." _I bet you are, _I think. The crowd cries out in agony for me. I look up and I see some of them wiping their eyes. "Sorry, Briarose, but we're out of time," Caesar says as the buzzer goes off. "Best of luck to Briarose Antigone!" I get up, shake Caesar's hand, and hastily walk off the stage, hiding my face because, to tell you the truth, I was beginning to cry myself. The thought of Birch, sitting home alone. The thought of my parents, perhaps looking down on me and thinking, _Brave darling. _It was all too much and I think to myself, _I wish Peeta were here to give me a hug like he always does when I'm emotional. _

I miss the first half of Peeta's interview, too preoccupied with holding back my tears. The other tributes aren't near me, but crying here would still be dangerous. I can hear the audience clapping and laughing at Peeta's approach. He's playing up the whole baker's son thing, comparing some of the other tributes to the bread he bakes.

He even compares me to the sweetbread he bakes and how it feels after it's fresh from the oven.

"Well, it's hard to think of lovely Briarose any less, right folks?" Caesar says after Peeta makes that statement. Then he says, "Now, Peeta. Tell me. Is there a special girl back home? One you hold dear to your heart?"

"No, not really," answers Peeta shaking his head.

"Really?" Caesar sounds shocked. "I don't believe it for a minute! Handsome fellow like you? There must be someone! Now, what's her name?"

Peeta hesitates. "Well...there is this one girl. I've had a crush on her forever." My heart sinks. I can't help being disappointed. It never feels good when the person you love is admitting they love someone else on national television. I sigh.

"There we go!" Caesar says excitedly.

"Yeah, but I don't think she feels that way about me," Peeta says with a sigh. "And I know a lot of other boys like her. I can't compete with them."

"Well, I'll tell you what." Caesar leans in closer to Peeta. "You go out there, you win this, and when you get home, she'll have to go out with you." The crowd shouts in agreement. I'm sure a lot of them would be willing to volunteer to date Peeta.

Peeta nods. "Thanks but, um...I don't think winning's gonna help me at all. Not this time."

"Why ever not?" Caesar asks surprised. I want to know too. Any girl with eyes would date Peeta anyway, even without him being the victor. I don't understand why he doesn't think winning will help him. It would only boost his popularity in District 12.

Peeta lets out a long sigh. He hesitates for a while, then he finally says, "Because she came here with me."


	2. Part 2

For a moment, the cameras hold on Peeta's downcast eyes as what he says sinks in. Then I see my face on the huge screen. My eyes wide, my cheeks as red as a rose, my mouth open in almost a protest. _Me? _And at last I realize why Peeta was so affectionate to me over the last ten years we've known each other. How could I have been so blind? It was because I thought his affections toward me were nothing but childhood memories. Neither of us wanted to let them go. But now, finally, I'm enlightened.

And suddenly, I feel a bit betrayed. Peeta telling all of Panem he's in love with me? It makes me look so weak! Like I can't even go to my death without having someone to cling to. I feel a surge of emotions boil up inside of me.

"Oh, well that's a piece of bad luck, isn't it?" says Caesar, with real pain in his voice.

"It is," agrees Peeta, still looking at the floor.

"Well, I don't think any of us blames you. It'd be hard not to fall for young Briarose, wouldn't it? She didn't know?" Caesar asks.

Peeta shakes his head. "Not until now."

"Honestly, I don't blame you one bit," Caesar tells Peeta. "She's beautiful, strong, and definitely the type for you."

"Yeah, she is..." Peeta agrees quietly. "She's so...beautiful. Like the sweet briar rose she was named after." He sounds like he's reciting a poem._You're really playing it up, aren't you? _For some reason, I'm pretty upset with Peeta for saying all that. He makes me look like I'm just a pretty face and there's nothing inside my head except knowledge of shoes and dresses.

"Oh, yes. Her features do resemble the plant we all know and love," Caesar says, jerking Peeta back to his senses. "Well, we all wish you best of luck. Ladies and gentlemen, Peeta Mellark from District 12!" He raises Peeta's hand and after words of thank you, Peeta walks off the stage, where I'm mercilessly waiting for him.

"Briar, I-" he begins. I immediately put my hand over his mouth and shove him into the wall. He looks at me, confused.

"What do you think you're doing?" I demand.

He pushes my hands off his mouth. "What? What are you talking about?"

"What were you thinking, pulling a stunt like that?" I shout. After loving Peeta for almost my whole life, I'm surprised I'm not ecstatic about his confession of love for me. But I can't even begin to be happy about it. He's made me look more vulnerable than ever, with no chance of winning now. "Well?"

"What stunt?" he asks, aghast and clueless. "You mean what I said about you on stage? Haymitch told me to say it. He told me to stir someting up. Something that would get us both sponsors. He told me that if people thought we were in love, we would get more sponsors because, really, who wants to see two lovers get murdered in front of each other?" So this is all just a stradegy? Figures. My mood immediately changes.

"You made me look weak!" I shout, trying to still sound angry.

"He made you look desirable." Haymitch steps in between me and Peeta. I notice the rest of District 12 is here too, Effie, Cinna, Portia, and our prep teams. "And let's face it, you need all the help you can get in that department. You were about as desirable as dirt out there, until he came along. Now, you're all anyone's talking about! You're the star-crossed lovers from District 12!" Haymitch grabs my shoulders and whipsers, "It doesn't matter if you're not really in love. It's all a big show to get you sponsors. That's it."

"But what if I really am..." I begin to tell Haymitch that I really do love Peeta. But if I did, I'd only embarrass myself more. Peeta said it himself, it's just a stradegy. I push Haymitch's hands off my shoulders and step away from him and everyone else, trying to clear my head. "I should've been told, so I didn't look so stupid out there," I hiss.

"No, if we had told you, you're reaction wouldn't have been as real," Haymitch says.

"He's right, Briarose," Cinna tells me.

I look over at Peeta. His lip is bleeding, and I realize that I might have been pressing a little too hard on his mouth when I was accusing him. I instantly feel guilty. Peeta was only doing what Haymitch told him to. In a way, I hope that he was lying when he said that. I hope that he didn't do it just because Haymitch asked him to. But believing that is unrealistic.

"She's just worried about her boyfriend back home," Peeta says harshly.

_What the hell is he talking about? _"I don't have a boyfriend," I retort.

"Whatever," Peeta says, brushing me off. "Anyway, what does it matter? You didn't say you loved me, so what does it matter?"

My remaining anger fades. I feel grief for Peeta. Why is he so convinced I'm in love with Gale? And why does he seem so unhappy about it? He shouldn't care. He's only playing the part of one half of the "star-crossed lover" situation. So why is he so upset? I can't tell.

Haymitch might be right about accumulating sponsors because of this. People in the Capitol eat this stuff up. I remember how they responded to Peeta's confession. Star-crossed lovers. They're going to love this. Suddenly I'm concerned I didn't react properly.

"After Peeta said he loved me, did you think that I loved him back?" I ask Cinna.

"Absolutely," he says. "You played it perfectly, the smile, the blushing, the avoiding the cameras."

I'm suddenly embarrassed by the way I acted when Peeta came off the stage. "I'm sorry I cut your lip," I tell him.

"It's alright," he says, licking blood of his top lip. "Even though it is technically illegal."

"Are your hands okay?" I ask, because I notice that they're starting to bleed too. I look over to the wall I shoved him into, and see glass shattered all over. It's from a painting on the wall, previously concealed in a glass covering, that I hadn't seen until now.

"They'll be alright," says Peeta reasurringly.

"Do you want them bandaged?" I ask him as we step into the elevator to level twelve. "I took a healing course in school once. It was the only class I ever actually showed up for on a daily basis."

"They're fine," Peeta tells me, though I can see blood is streaming from them now.

"Oh, don't be an idiot," Haymitch says roughly. "Stop trying to act tough. You need them healed by the time you're in the arena. Briar, get started on those hands when we get to our level."

I nod. In the silence that follows, delicious smells come wafting in from the dining room. But I don't feel hungry, I feel guilty. About the way I treated Peeta after he came off the stage, pushing him into the wall, making his lip bleed. As soon as we step off the elevator, Portia starts to lead him away for medical treatment, but Haymitch puts his hand in front of her and says, "Briar's going to do it. Aren't you, Briar?" I smirk at Haymitch, but honestly, I don't mind being told to heal Peeta.

I take him to his room, which is oddly similar to mine. I find a small kit containing all the medical supplies for minor injuries, such as cut hands, a bleeding lip. I take out some bandages and wrap Peeta's hands, but not before applying some oitment to speed the healing. Then I figure all I can do for a cut lip is some of that ointment, so I gingerly apply that to his lips.

"Briar," says Peeta as I'm putting the last of the ointment on his lips. I look at him. "Thanks for taking care of me."

"I'm the one who did this," I remind him.

"I know, but still. Thanks." I nod and Effie calls us down for dinner.

After we eat, we watch a replay of the interviews in the sitting room. As I watch myself, I seem shallow and thoughtless. All I see is beautiful dress holding a carefree girl who doesn't stand a chance because she's so in love with her competitior. But everyone tells me I was charming. Peeta actually is charming, completely winning the crowd with his personality and his confession of love for me.

When the anthem finishes and the sreen goes dark, a hush falls on the room. We all know that tomorrow, we will be roused and readied to go into the arena. Peeta and I have to get up early to prepare, though the Capitol's people rise late and the actual Games don't start until ten. I know Haymitch and Effie won't be with us to say goodbye, because, hopefully, they'll be signing in all our sponsors. Cinna and Portia will travel to the arena with us, where last good-byes and words of farewell can be exchanged in peace.

Effie takes us both by the hand and, with actual tears in her eyes, wishes us well and tells us to try our hardest to stay alive. She tells us that we've been the best tributes it's been her honor to represent. Then, without another word, she hugs us, and retreats to her room.

Haymitch crosses the room and stares at us. I'm glad he's sober for this moment, out of all the moments we've spent together.

"Any final words of advice?" Peeta asks.

"When the gong sounds, get the hell out of there. Got it?" says Haymitch. We both nod. "I don't want either of you risking yourselves for anything that Cornucopia has to offer, not even a weapon or food. If you manage to get your hands on one indirectly, fine. But don't go searching for one. You're best bet would be to run straight for the woods and look for water. There's almost always some trees, so don't go asking me 'What if there aren't any woods?'."

"And after that?" I ask.

"Stay alive, don't draw too much attention to yourself. Lay low for the time being, then show them what you're capable of. But not until it's down to the very last few people. Understand, children?" We nod again. What else is there to say? Haymitch hugs each of us, kisses us both on the cheeks, and heads to his room.

When I go to my room, Peeta lingers to talk to Portia. I'm glad. I'm not really in the mood for one of our nighttime conversations. I take a hot shower and scrub all the essences of beauty from my face and body. Then I climb into bed wearing another white nightdress that almost makes me look like a bride.

I close my eyes over and over, but they keep opening back up. It takes me about five minutes to realize I won't be sleeping soundly tonight. I desperately need rest, but I stop trying to force myself to sleep. Instead I lay there, staring at the ceiling. Then I look to my right and I see a remote lying on the nightstand. I've never seen it before, or if I have, I just never paid attention to it. I pick it up and press one of the buttons, not sure where to aim it since there isn't anything else that needs a remote in my room.

Suddenly, a vast landscape appears on my walls. It shows mountains in the winter, being covered by snow. I feel like I'm really there. Even the chill that would come with the snow in the mountains is here. I press another button. This time, the image on my wall is a desert. I feel the heat from the sand and the warm winds coming across the sand dunes. I despise the heat, so I quickly press another button.

A lush green forest is before me. I leap from my bed and walk toward my walls. The trees look so inviting and beautiful. I'm reminded of home once again, the forest outside the fence in District 12. I put my hand to the wall, hoping that it goes right through and touches a tree. It doesn't. So I just stare, escaping into the trees. One hour passes, two, three, and I realize that standing here hoping that the trees with engulf me isn't helping my sanity anymore than Effie's high pitched voice would. I turn away from the image, throw the remote down on my bed, and open my door.

I run down the hallway to the closet with the trapdoor to the roof leads. It's not only open, but ajar as well. It's clear that Peeta has been up here, and maybe he still is. I hesitate to go up. I'm not sure if I'm in the mood to talk to anyone, but my need for fresh air overcomes my feeling of solitude, and I ascend up the ladder to the dome shaped room. I quietly open the door and step out onto the roof. It isn't lit, concealing my presence from being known. Still, I can see his silhouette, black against the lights that forever shine in the Capitol.

I walk toward him until I'm barely a yard away and say, "Couldn't sleep?"

He starts but doesn't turn. "Obviously." I realize those are the exact words we exchanged the first time we both couldn't sleep. I wish for that time to be here again, when entering the arena was days away. Now, it's only hours. "I didn't want to miss the party, either. It's for us, anyway."

I peer over the edge of the roof, and I see it. Hundreds of people in the streets below, dancing, playing music, drinking. It is all for us. For our deaths, to be more

exact. I scoff at the mass of people toasting to our soon-to-be deaths.

"Couldn't sleep either?" Peeta asks. He's looking at me know. His face is even more handsome in the dim lighting the roof has.

I shrug. "Couldn't turn my mind off, I guess," I say.

"Thinking about your family?" he asks.

"I don't exactly have a 'family' to think about," I remind him bitterly. "I just have Birch. I do wonder what he's doing sometimes, though. If he misses me, or if he's still grieving for me, or if he's getting on without me."

"Do you wonder what Gale and Katniss are doing without you?" Peeta asks, trying to sound casual.

"Yes, pretty much all the time," I say. "I can't help wondering if they're doing better without me, or if they're even thinking about me at all. And I still wonder what Birch is doing too, since he was pretty upset with me for volunteering."

"You had to have an enormous amount of bravery to do that," says Peeta. He glances at me. "You're not like anyone else I know, Briar. No one else would do that for anyone, except maybe if they were related. You and Prim aren't related. Neither are you and Katniss."

For some reason, that statement rubs me the wrong way. "We've spent enough time together that I do consider them as my own sisters," I tell him defensively.

"I get that," Peeta says, looking down at the crowd.

"You're brothers, why didn't they volunteer to save you?" I suddenly demand. I honestly was a little angry that neither of them even tried to stop him from going.

"Family ties only go so far in some families," he says flatly. I imagine what it would be like for Birch and I to not be as close as we are now. I wonder what it would be like to not have him care about me, not worrying if I get fed or not, not worrying when I have nightmares, not worrying if my name is chosen from the reaping ball... "Sometimes I wonder what it would be like, if both of my brothers cared about me more. They already care about me a lot, but I wonder what it would have been like for one of them to volunteer for me. I don't particularly wish that that would have happened. If it did, they'd be here with you, instead of me."

Wanting to change the subject of our siblings, because I'm starting to get teary-eyed, I say, "All I've been wondering about for the past hour is what the Games will be like, which is pointless, of course." I stare at the bandages on his hands, the way he has to hold them now. "I'm really sorry about you're hands..."

"It doesn't matter, Briar," says Peeta. "I was never really a contestant in the Games, anyway."

"Don't think like that," I tell him.

"Why not? It's true. My best hope is to not disgrace myself and..." He hesitates.

"And what?" I ask.

"I just...I want to die myself, if that makes sense," says Peeta. It really doesn't, so I urge him on. "I mean, if I'm going to die, I still want to be me, not one of the monsters they turn people into."

"So you're not going to kill anyone?" I ask, feeling inferior. Out of all the tributes, Peeta is deifinately the strongest. In size and muscle, but what I really mean is that he's the stongest in his will to stay pure, true to himself, and not become a killer. Not like any of the other tributes have.

"Oh, I'm sure I will when the time comes. I can't go down without a fight, only I keep wishing I could figure out a way to...you know, to show the Capitol that they don't own me. That I'm not just one of their puppets they can control." Peeta's hands start to shake, so I take them both in mine, careful not to disturb his bandages.

"You're not," I tell him. "You're the farthest from it out of all of us."

"Okay, but within the framework, there's still you, and there's still me. Don't you see, Briar?" He fixes his brown eyes on me, demanding an answer.

"I do, but..." I hesitate. "Peeta, we don't exactly have time to be caring about that anymore."

"Well, what else am I allowed to care about at this point?" he asks angrily, his eyes locked on mine. I hold his gaze for as long as I can. _Care about me, _I tell him in my head. _Care about the times you told me you would protect me with your life. Doesn't that count for anything anymore? _

"Care about what Haymitch said about staying alive," is what comes from my mouth instead. "I don't really want you to die."

"I don't want to die either, but better a noble death than a weak, pathetic one," says Peeta and I wonder, doesn't he realize that by trying to find a noble death, he's only giving the Capitol a show?

I shake my head at him. "But don't you want to spend your last hours in District 12, not here?" I ask. I mean the forest, of course, but Peeta's idea of District 12 isn't the woods, it's a bakery.

"I don't see how I could," he shrugs. Just then, I remember how I've never taken Peeta into the forest with me.

I extend my hand to him. "Come on into the garden. That's how," I say.

He takes my hand and we go to the garden. I breathe in all the fresh scents. I stare at the trees. _Just one, _I think, _Just one last tree climb, while I'm still free. _I place my hand on the first low hanging branch and hoist myself up to the next one. I climb all the way up, until I can feel the breeze blowing in my face. I sigh. I plan to enjoy my last few hours of life. It's not until I situate myself on the highest branch that I realize I've left Peeta staring at me from the bottom of the tree. Since he's made of pure muscle, I decide it wouldn't be smart to invite him up. The branches of this tree aren't exactly strong.

I swing down to him and land right in front of him. He laughs. I smile at him. This is just the way I wanted to spend my last few hours, not with my love, but with my best friend. Us laughing together, smiling together, it reminds me of District 12. Racing through the trees with Gale and Katniss. Being home with Birch after he gets home from the mines, and after I get home from what I tell him was a day at school. Of course, I'm almost never really at school.

Peeta sighs. "Remember when I told you I would protect you with my life and, if the time came, I would let you kill me?" he asks.

"Yes," I say, remembering clearly that night.

"I meant that," says Peeta. He takes my hand and presses it to his lips, like he's done so many times before.

I shake my head. "Remember when I told you to not do that for me? I meant that, too. Don't die for me," I tell him sternly."If you die, who would really be the one to suffer?" _Me._ I answer my own question. I would suffer a lot more than Peeta if he died.

"But if the time came-" he begins.

"No! Peeta!" I shout.

"If the time came," he says, louder than I was. "I will give my life for you. I swear."

"Don't," I insist. I drop his hands and walk away. My whole body wants to turn around, stay with him, but I can't. Not if he's already counting on dying for me. I keep walking toward the door, but I feel Peeta grab my hand from behind. This time, I feel the warm flesh on his hand, not the rough bandages. I turn around and look at his hand.

"I wanted to actually feel your hand, one last time," he tells me. I notice he's taken the bandage off his other hand too. Surprisingly, they're almost completely healed.

I'm grateful that Peeta stopped me from walking away. Because if I had kept walking, I wouldn't have been able to feel his hand, one last time, like he wanted to do to mine. "This won't be the last time," I say, trying to reassure him.

"Okay, Briarose," he says. "Okay."

I smile. At least now maybe he has some hope in his heart that he'll come out of the arena alive.

We stand on the roof together for I don't know how many minutes. Hours, maybe. We just stare at each other, holding each others hands. I'm comforted by the sight of Peeta's face. His brown eyes, his blonde hair. It's all so famliar to me, and I know he feels the same way about me.

Peeta guides my hand to his chest. I feel his heart beating, but this time, I don't feel like it beats for someone else. I don't feel like it beats for me either. It just beats, steady and slow.

I look up at him and smile slightly. Peeta smiles back. He brushes one of his hands down my cheek, so I wrap one of my arms around his neck. Then he leans forward, and kisses me. I throw both of my arms around his neck and I feel his slide down my back to my waist. I don't ever want this moment to cease, because it's simply perfect. All my troubles are gone, all my worries about dying, or Peeta dying in my place, or how Gale and Katniss are getting on without me, or Birch being lonely with no comfort anymore. They all vanish. I feel warmth gliding from my chest all around my body, up my arms, through my legs. I wish I could pause time and savor this moment forever.

When we finally stop kissing, I turn my head away. My hair drapes over, covering my blushing face. "I should go back to bed," I tell Peeta.

"Yeah, me too," he agrees. "By the way," he says as I start for the door of the dome. "I meant what I said, about your looks resembling a briar rose." Then he smiles at me, I smile back, and I walk through the dome door, descend down the ladder of the closet, and head for my bedroom with warm, happy butterflies still fluttering around in my stomach.

The next morning, I don't see Peeta at all. Cinna comes to my room and puts me in a thick pair of brown pants and a black t-shirt and laces soft leather boots up to my knees. He leads me to the roof where I'm supposed to take one of the hovercrafts to the catacombs right below the arena. Final preparations, words of encouragement, and good-byes are to be exchanged there.

The hovercraft appears out of thin air. It drops down a ladder and I climb on, expecting someone to hoist me up or something. No one does and I get worried I might not be able to hang on for the whole ride, but instantly, I can't move, almost like I'm frozen. Some sort of current plasters me to the ladder. Only after we've taken off at high speeds am I taken inside the hovercraft.

I'm told to sit in one of the metal seats. As I sit, a woman in a white coat with a syringe comes toward me. "This is just your tracker, so the Gamemakers will know where you are at all times," she tells me. I nod and she plunges the syringe into my left forearm.

I look around the interior of the hovercraft. I notice all the other tributes are staring at me, like they expect the outfit I'm wearing today to burst into flames as did my other outfits. I just stare back at them, my eyes unable to move. They cast they're eyes away and so do I. For a while, I stare at the floor, wondering what the arena will be like. What horrors will the Gamemakers will add this year, what sort of environment we'll be in, what the bloodbath at the Cornucopia will be like. As I think, I see a pair of boots almost identical to mine right beside me. I look up and couldn't be more pleased with who's wearing them.

"Hey, Briar," says Peeta, trying to sound as happy as possible.

"Hey," I say back. I'm not exactly sure what to say next. So we say nothing for the rest of the ride to the arena.

I wish I could talk to him about last night. When we kissed. I want to know if it was real or not. Had he been faking? Had he known that there were cameras on the roof and we were being watched? Was he only playing for the audience?

The tremble the hovercraft gives indicates that we've landed and are descending into the catacombs. Each tribute leaves at seperate times. I get off before Peeta. As I start out the door of the hovercraft, Peeta pulls me back. "Briar..." he begins. But he knows he doesn't have any time. So he only says, "Good luck." Then I leave him sitting in the hovercraft alone.

Cinna hugs me as soon as he sees me. "Briarose," he says. "Feeling okay?"

"Not really..." I tell him truthfully. I'm having a hard time keeping my breakfast down.

I go to clean my teeth and wash my face a few times before Cinna styles my hair in a high ponytail. He helps me put on a different pair of pants and a different shirt. Then he slips a thin jacket over my shoulders. "The material is meant to keep your body heat in. Expect some cold nights," he tells me. He also tells me that the boots I'm wearing are fine for the arena because they're lightweight and won't make loud sloshing sounds when I walk. They aren't unlike the ones I have back in District 12; they're flexible and have a thick sole to them.

As he zips up my jacket, I notice the small mockingjay pin attached to the inside. I look up at Cinna. He puts his finger to his lips and _shhs_ me. "Thank you," I manage to squeak. "Make sure everything fits good," Cinna instructs me.

I run around, I throw my arms up and down, I kick my feet out. "Yes," I say. "Everything fits perfectly."

"Nothing to do then but wait for the call," Cinna says.

I pace around the room, I lay on the floor, I sit against the wall. All the while, I'm thinking about what I'm going to do when the gong sounds. Haymitch told us to head straight for the forest and look for water. But how far am I really going to get without a weapon? I need to get my hands on one somehow. Maybe one of the backpacks that line the Cornucopia will have one. A knife, at least. That's what I'll do. I'll just get one of the backpacks, then I'll go straight into the woods.

Cinna sits beside me the whole time until a female voice announces that it's time to launch. Cinna takes my hand and kisses it. "Remember this, find water," he says. "And this. I'm not allowed to bet, but if I could, all my money would be on you."

I don't even have time to thank him before he shoves me onto the launch pad. A glass tube is lowered around me, making me feel like a helpless, trapped animal. Cinna taps his chin with his two forefingers. _Head up high. _

I raise my chin, trying to look as if I'm honored to be a tribute. The launch pad rises up, taking me with it. Cinna waves, and then, I'm in darkness. Only for about twelve seconds, and then I'm standing in the bright sunlight, almost blinded by it's rays. I hear the voice of Seneca Crane, head Gamemaker.

"Ladies and gentleman," he says. "Let the 74th Annual Hunger Games begin!"

I stare around the organized circle we're in on our launch pads. Sixty seconds is all we get to think our last free thoughts. Sixty seconds, and then the Games really begin. Step off the launch pad before sixty seconds is up, and a mine blows you a hundred feet up. As I scan the circle, I can see Peeta, right across from me. He looks scared, though I doubt anyone but me can notice. I look at him, trying to catch his eye. He looks up at me and nods. "Ready?" I mouth to him. "Always," he mouths back.

The gong sounds, and I see a flash as all the tributes run for the Cornucopia. I remember Haymitch's words. _When the gong sounds, get the hell out of there. _But I'm so tempted by the mass of weapons just begging to be picked up and used. And I'm even more tempted when I see a silver bow and a quiver of arrows. _That's mine, _I think. _It was meant for me._

I race toward them, not getting ten feet toward it, when I'm knocked off my feet. I quickly jump to my feet, and brace myself for another attack. Of course, it comes sooner than I prepared for. My attacker pins my arms to the flat ground, and aims a knife at my throat. How could anyone have been so fast as to already have that? I struggle, but it's no use. The knife holder, a girl about my age, is bigger than I am and a lot heavier. I scream, and her grip on me loosens. I instinctively kick my legs, throwing off the girl and getting to my feet. I figure I can't really afford to be wounded yet, so I run. I run straight for the forest, which is lush and green, exactly like home. That's what keeps me going. The feeling of running towards home. I scoop up a backpack on my way, and bury myself in the leaves of the bushes around me.

I know it's not wise to hang around, but I still do anyway. I wait to see if I can see Peeta and I just hope that if I do manage to catch a glimpse of him, he's not lying motionless in a pool of blood. Aha! I see him. But he's grapling with another tribute much larger than him. _Peeta's good at hand-to-hand combat, _I tell myself, trying to move on. But I can't. And I can practically hear Haymitch yelling at me back in the Training Center, _What are you doing, sweetheart? Get a move on! _

I search my backpack frantically for a knife, a rock, an arrow, something that would help me save Peeta from dying this early on. At last, I find it. A small knife, almost like a switchblade. I hold it by the blade, and wing it at Peeta's attacker, and duck behind the bushes again, hoping no one saw where the knife came from. I peek through the thick leaves and I see the boy that was fighting with Peeta. He's laying on his side, and I see that my knife stabbed him in his right calf. Peeta's no where to be seen anymore. He must've been smarter than me and taken off.

Smiling with the satisfaction of hitting my target, I gather the few things I have, stuff them into my backpack, and head downhill, keeping my eyes open for any signs of water. I stop sprinting, confident that no one is pursuing me, and I resort to a light jog. As soon as I feel I've put at least one hundred yards between me and the Cornucopia, I sit down to examine the contents of my bag.

The first thing I see is a canteen. I open it thirstily, but of course, it's empty. Would it have honestly killed anyone at the Capitol to fill this with a tiny quart of water? I shake my head at them, and lay the canteen beside me. I empty the rest of the bag. A thin sleeping bag, a pack of crackers, a pack of dried beef, a bottle of iodine, a box of wooden matches, about four or five throwing knives, and one more thing that catches my eye. I pick it up and look at it closely. I recognize it almost instantly. It's a briar rose. The beautiful pink colors on its petals seem to glow against the dull colors of the forest floor. Is it just a mistake that it was put in with the other contents? Was it only a coincidence that I happened to grab this bag? I tip my head to the left, and I notice something else. The briar rose isn't fully in bloom yet. I don't ponder on what this might mean for long. I simply put it on top of all my other belongings, and start searching for water again.

I don't search for long, at least I don't think it's long, and already the sky begins to dim as it enters twilight. I decide I should probably set up some sort of camp. But I remember what Haymitch said. _Don't draw too much attention to yourself. _A fire would draw nothing but attention. I shake my head. Instead of setting up traps with the wire like I know I should, I break into my supply of dried beef. I can hunt tomorrow if I really need to.

Staying on the ground would be another thing that could draw attention. I don't know how exactly, but I feel safer in the trees. I easily climb up a tall cedar, and rest on one of the higher branches, hiding myself in the leaves from any wandering tributes. The limb I lay on is thick, so I stretch out on my stomach with my feet touching the center of the tree. It's not terribly cold in the arena right now, so I keep my sleeping bag stuff in my backpack. Suddenly, I hear cannons, almost causing me to fall off my tree limb. The cannons signal all the deaths that occured during the day. I count them carefully. One, two, three and on until the firing finally stops at eleven. Eleven. Eleven dead, thirteen to go. A small glimmer of hope rises in my chest. Maybe this won't be so hard after all. But I know this is a foolish thing to even think.

The anthem starts blaring all around me. I grip onto the tree limb. I look up to the sky to see all the tributes who died today. A girl from District 3, the boys from Districts 4 and 5, both from 6 and 7, the boy from 8, both from 9, and one more tribute to go. Is it Peeta? If it is, I might as well be dead too. If it is, I've basically failed him. I promised I would protect him. Throwing the knife in that boy's keg, what if it wasn't enough and he still went after Peeta and killed him? I don't think I could live without him. I close my eyes, unable to bear the sight if it really is him. But it's not. It's the girl from District 10. I sigh, relieved that it wasn't Peeta and I wonder if he's staring at the sky thinking the same thing.

Fatigue slowly begins to take over my body and I allow myself to give in to it, since I haven't slept soundly in over two days.

_Snap!_ I'm pulled from my sleep by the sound of breaking branches not too far from where I am. I look down below and see one of the tributes, a girl, starting a fire and warming her hands. _How can you be so stupid as to start a fire? _She sits there, practically begging to be found by the Careers. I have to bite my lips to hold back from screaming every foul thing I can think of at her. She's going to get both of us killed because of her carelessness.

I see smoke starting to rise from the flames, and not a moment later, there are the Careers, glowering over her in such a way that she falls on her back without even being touched. She starts crying and pleading and screaming for help that I can never give her, no matter how much I want to. Then there's a long, drawn out scream, then there's laughter, then they all stop. "Twelve down, eleven to go!" a voice shouts, followed by hoots of satisfaction.

"Shouldn't we have heard the cannon by now?" asks another voice, a girl's, I think.

"Are you sure she's dead, Cato?" asks another voice. I peer through the breaks in the branches and try to pick out the one they call Cato. I think I see him. Who else would it be? Cato's a strongly built boy, probably about sixteen himself, with blue eyes and blonde hair. It's clear that he's the leader of their pack.

"Look, I know where I hit her. She's good and dead by now," Cato tells them reassuringly.

"Someone should go back and check," another voice puts in.

"I said she's dead!" yells Cato.

"We're only wasting time. I'll go back and finish her." I'm horrified at whose mouth the voice is coming from, because it's Peeta.

I almost fall from my tree limb. Peeta! Why would he be hanging around with the Careers? He's not like them! I'm more like them than he is, I'm the one that hunts everyday, not him.

"Go on, then, Lover Boy," says the boy from District 2. "See for youself if she's dead or not."

Peeta escapes and heads toward the girl's body. I see his face, lit by the dim moonlight. It's all scratched up, and he has a black eye and a bruise on his cheek. Right in the spot where Haymitch first punched him; it's like his bruise has come alive again. He seems to be limping too. I feel like I failed him. I feared I had before, and now, here's the proof. What did the Careers to do him? Torture him until he said he would fight with them? Seems that way.

"Why don't we just kill him and get it over with?" demands one of the Careers as soon as Peeta's gone. Clove. I recognize her from the Training Center. She's also the one that attacked me earlier today.

"Let him tag along. What's the harm? He's pretty handy with that knife."

Is he? I had never seen Peeta touch one of the knives when we were training.

"Besides, he's our best chance of finding her," another Career puts in. "What's her name...Briarose? Something stupid like that."

"Why? You think she bought into that sappy romance stuff?"

"She might've. She seemed pretty simpleminded to me."

I'm ready to launch myself off the branch and kill each and every one of those stupid Careers right now. Simpleminded? Me? Well, they'll find out soon enough.

_Enough of this, _I think as I turn my attention back to Peeta. The girl who was stabbed by Cato hears Peeta coming and whimpers. She's not dead after all. Peeta raises the knife he has, as if to strike her one last time. But instead, he gently cuts off her boots. Then he puts his hand on her head and starts talking softly to her. By the way his lips are moving, I think he's telling her he's sorry that she had to die like this. She's nodding the whole time, but soon, she stops moving completely and the cannon fires. Peeta gets up and walks back to the Careers.

"Took you long enough," snorts one of them. I think this one's named Glimmer. She's from District 1.

"Well...I..." Peeta stammers. "I wanted to make it long and painful for her." I wince at the tone in his voice. This is definitely not the Peeta I kissed on the roof of the Training Center.

"Hmph, good job, Lover Boy," Cato congradulates Peeta, patting him on the back. "Come on, we should camp here for the night. Set up right along that tree trunk." He points directly under the tree that I'm in. _Of course. Out of all the other trees in this arena, you had to pick this one..._

Peeta hesitates. It's like he knows I'm here, right above the Careers. "What are you doing?" Clove hisses. "Just because you killed your first tribute tonight, you think that you're excused from helping us make camp?" He shakes his head and quietly does as ordered. He sets his things right below me, right under the branch that I'm sitting in now. Maybe he's trying to protect me. Then he glances up to where I'm sitting. _He doesn't really know I'm here, does he? _I wonder.

The rest of the Career pack sets up their stuff along the edge of the tree trunk and begin settling in for the night. Confident that their own snoring will mask any sounds that I make, I begin to drift off again.

"Briar!" I hear the whisper, barely audible among the Careers' heavy breathing. Then I feel a piece of bark hit my nose. I brush it away and try to go back to sleep. "Briar! Briarose!" The voice is louder this time, but only by a bit.

I look through the branches which are thinner in this space than they were in the others. I see Peeta's eyes, glistening a mysterious golden-brown in the moonlight. He smiles at me. _No offense, Peeta, but this isn't exactly the time or place to be doing that stuff. _Still, I smile back, letting him know I'm still on his side. "Briar..." he whispers again.

"What?" I whipser back. One of the Careers stirs, and I freeze. Peeta's head whips to his left. I hardly dare to breathe until Peeta turns his head back to me and nods.

"I just wanted to talk to you again," he says.

"We can't really do that right now, can we? Unless you're a better climber and I lot more weightless than I thought," I say with a laugh.

"Come down," says Peeta. I wave my hand over my mouth to remind him to stay quiet. He nods again. "Come down, Briar. It's not that high." _Um, yes. It is, actually. _I still make an effort to get down though, silently.

It's incredibly hard, not to rustle the leaves in any way, not to crack the bark underfoot, not to accidentally snap a branch and send myself, basically, to my death. I decide it would be easier and quicker to jump to another tree that's lower than this one. It seems like a good idea, until I take a leap, and land akwardly on the low hanging branch of a neighboring tree, causing it to shake uncontrollably. The rustling of the leaves wakes every creature in the arena, except the Careers. _Who's simpleminded now? _I roll my eyes at the sleeping idiots and begin to descend down the tree farther. Finally, I'm low enough to leap to the ground and not disturb any leaves.

"Good job," says Peeta, who was watching my every move as I got down from the tree. He starts to lead me away from the Careers, toward the moon. As soon as we're far enough from them, we can talk louder.

"Don't ask me to do anything like that again. Ever," I order. Because that was honestly one of the scariest moments of my life.

"Of course," he says. "You won't have to, because we're leaving."

"Leaving?" I ask. "Peeta, you can't. They'll notice you're gone first thing when they wake up, and you'll be the first one they'll hunt down next."

"I said we're leaving," says Peeta. It almost sounds like an order. "I don't ever want to have to watch someone die like that again. And I don't ever want to be afraid for you as much as I was a few hours ago."

"You had nothing to worry about," I tell him. "I was perfectly safe. The Careers are too stupid to think of looking up instead of ahead."

"Too stupid to look up," Peeta agrees. "But smarter than anyone when it comes to those weapons."

I sigh. I know he's right. I wouldn't stand a chance alone against the Careers. I would still fight, obviously. There's no way I'm checking out of the Games looking weak and pathetic. "So are you ready to go?"

"No! Peeta," I take his hand in mine. "if you go, they'll notice. They'll hunt you. And they'll kill you. Probably slowly, like you said you did to that girl with the fire."

"I don't care. Briar, if I'm going to have one last night to spend with you, I'm going to take it, without hesitation," he says. He slings his backpack over his shoulder and picks up his knife.

"Well, sorry to say, but I left my backpack up in the tree," I tell Peeta. He looks at me like I have three heads.

"You're kidding," he says.

"Nope," I say back, smiling at him, gloating.

"You can't go without that," he tells me, like he thinks I don't already know that.

"Exactly," I say.

"If you can't go, I'm not going," says Peeta, dropping his things.

"That's what I was hoping you were going to say," I tell him.

"Okay, this time, you avoided it. But the next chance we get, we're getting out of here." Peeta embraces me. I can smell blood on his shirt. Not fresh, but I can still smell it and I wonder if it's his. He kisses me on my head, then again on the cheek, then one last time on the lips. "I just want to keep you safe, like I promised."

"Then stay away from me," I tell him. "Because if they catch even a glimpse of you hanging around with me, they'll know that you know where I am, and they'll hunt for me. But not before..." I trail off because I hate thinking of and saying this. "Before they kill you first. Maybe even torture you to make you tell them where I am."

"Oh, I don't mind if they kill me or torture me. It'd be worth it to-" I cut him off by putting my hand across his mouth.

"Stop saying that. I would care if you died or were hurt. I would suffer more than you would..." I'm being honest. I clear my throat because I'm starting to get a little choked up. "I should be getting back to my...em...my tree." I look up in the sky and I can see daylight starting to overpower the moon.

"Okay," says Peeta, kissing me again. "Maybe I'll see you later."

"You will." And I dare to run back to my tree where my backpack still sits, perched at the top. I go to the neighboring tree that I hopped onto to get lower to the ground and start from there, climbing up until I can see my backpack in the tree right next to me. I leap and land squarely on the limb. There I stay, dozing in and out, until the Careers start stirring.

"Someone should have been keeping watch," Cato growls. In a way, I think he meant this message to go to Peeta. "In case the girl on fire came wandering through here last night."

"I did keep watch," Peeta tells Cato. "I didn't see any sign of her, or anyone else." He's such a good liar, it worries me.

"A likely story." My heart stops beating. They couldn't have secretly been awake when Peeta was calling me down, could they have been? "I, for one, don't remember you being next to me when I woke up once last night. Not being a bad boy, are we Peeta?" Clove sneers through gritted teeth.

"Not at all, Clove," says Peeta. But I can see he's starting to get worried. "What would my purpose of seeing her and not killing her be?"

"Let me think...oh, I know. Maybe because you told everyone in Panem that you loved her," says Clove. I can tell Peeta isn't her favorite.

"Don't be ridiculous. You think I meant all that when I said it?" asks Peeta. "It's just a stradegy Haymitch and I worked out. The people at the Capitol love this sort of thing." And there it goes again. The bell in my head telling me that all affection Peeta shows me from now on is only an act. A stradegy, something to keep himself alive.

Clove snorts at him and turns her back. I see Peeta sigh in relief. The Careers gather their stuff and sets off at a run, just as dawn bgins to break, and birdsong fills the air. After they're gone, I once again make my way down to the bottom of the tree. I can take a quicker route straight down the tree now, since the Careers are gone. The minute I hit the ground, I'm guarunteed a close-up.

The cameras! I remember now, the cameras. Recording us 24/7, listening to us, sending our images back to the Gamemakers. I realize Peeta and I were probably being watched by everyone in Panem; the Capitol wouldn't pass up a conversation like the one we shared last night. It's too juicy. We must've given the people a real show last night...and that's all it probably was. A show.

And now I wonder: Did Peeta mean what he said about running away, or was he only playing the part for the cameras? I feel anger run up and down my spine. Is he faking all of this? All of his feelings for me, could they be nothing more than a game? Well, I'm tired of playing. I decide, the next time I see Peeta, I'll disqualify myself from his cruel game designed specifically for me.

My search for water continues, and I feel the affects of dehydration creep in on me. My backpack feels as if it's tripled in weight, my legs are heavy, and I can't hold ymself straight for any longer. If I take a break, I might not be able to get back up. But still I sit down on a log. I lay on it, wondering what to do next. My mouth is so parched I can hardly take in air. I roll on my side and start poking at the ground under the log. It's warm and gushy. _I love mud, _I think.

Mud! I immediately sit up and look around me. Yes, I'm surrounded by mud, which means there must be water here. I get to my feet and start walking where the mud gets even wetter, letting my feet slosh around in the gooey substance. Finally, I see it. A small pond containing hundreds of thriving water lilies. I scoop up a palmful of the water and splash it on my face. It feels so refreshing and cool. I'm about to take a drink, when I remember the iodine in my bag. My mouth cries for the water, but I fill up my canteen with the water and drip the iodine into it, waiting for as long as the label tells me. Thirty minutes. That's not so bad...

The waiting is agony. After what I think is a half hour, I take a sip of the water. Nothing suspicious there, so I take another sip, and another, and another and soon, I'm gulping down the water, quickly emtyping the canteen. I fill it again and put another drop of iodine in. As I wait, I examine the water lillies floating ontop. They're white, like the ones back in District 12 that Katniss and I found. Katniss...I miss her. I miss hunting the voles in the bushes with her, which was sort of our specialty. I miss everyone back home. Birch, Gale, Katniss, Prim, Mr. Mellark...

Suddenly, it starts to pour. The rain doesn't start out lightly, then evolve into a downpour, it just immediately starts to pour. In an instant, my pants are soaked through. My jacket, however, is doing a remarkable job of keeping the water out. I grab my backpack and my canteen and head where the trees get thicker. I climb up one with a thick canopy of leaves at the very top. I put my backpack next to me and then I remember, I was supposed to go hunting today. I shake my head at myself and dig into my backpack. I still have some beef strips and my pack of crackers I haven't even opened yet. I decide it's okay to dig into them as well.

I eat a small meal of beef and crackers and start to doze off in my tree. Then I hear the sound of heavy footsteps. The rain has stopped, and I hear the footsteps coming closer, and I know it's the Careers. What I don't know is who they're hunting. It takes me a second to realize that it's me they're hunting.

"Where did she go?" I hear Cato ask. "You said you saw her right here!"

"I did." The voice belongs to Peeta. _Traitor! _I'm tempted to scream at him. "She was here just a second ago. Maybe she ran when she felt like she was being tracker."

"We were perfectly quiet! I don't see how she could've known we were on her tail...unless you gave her some sort of signal when you went ahead of us," Cato growls at Peeta. "Want to explain to all of us where she could've gone?"

Peeta puts his head down, not making eye contact with any of the Careers. "Maybe...maybe she...ran that way," he finally says, pointing across the pond.

"A likely story," Clove says, pushing through Peeta and Cato. "She's in a tree."

_Oh, no, _I think. How could she have known that? "Yes..." I can see Clove now.

She's looking straight at the tree I'm in. Then she takes one of her knives and hurls it at me. The knife hits me right in the leg I was dangling over the edge of the tree limb, cutting through my pants and burying itself deep in my calf. I start to scream in pain, but quickly cover my mouth. It's too late though; the Careers start trying to climb the tree. But not before Cato takes the time to punch Peeta across the face. _I'm dead, _I think, _This is it. _There's nothing I can do now except wait for them to come up. I grab one of my knives, just in case I actually get the chance to kill one of them before the rest of them kill me.

I wait for what seems like forever. _What are they waiting for? _I dare to look over my branch to see Cato is the only one still trying to reach me. The others are all watching him from the base of the tree. He'll never make it, I know that. He's too heavy for these branches. "Having a little trouble, big boy?" I taunt him. He scowls at me and keeps trying to climb higher.

"Oh, you won't reach me that way. You're too heavy." I tell him.

"You'd better hope I am!" he says. And as he reaches for another branch, the one his foot is on collapses and he falls about ten feet to the ground. "Why don't you come down here and fight us like a real tribute!"

"Thanks for the invite, but I'm fine up here, actually," I sneer. Glimmer shoots an arrow at me, but it lodges itself three inches from my head. I take it out and wave it in her face. "You don't mind if I keep this, do you?" Glimmer just glares at me. _Those were supposed to be my arrows, anyway. _

Then Cato reaches for a spear and throws it in my direction. It doesn't hit me, but, unfortunately, it's enough to unbalance me and I fall of the tree branch. I don't fall all the way to the ground, but I'm low enough for the Careers to attack me now. I feel panic start to well up in my chest. I can't outrun them either, not with my leg being in the state it is. I try to climb more, but I feel Cato grab my injured leg before I can. He gives a sharp tug and I fall to the ground with him. _I guess this really _is _it... _

Cato gets to his feet before I can, and he and the other Careers surround me. "What do you think we should do with her?" he asks.

"Kill her," says Glimmer.

"I would never have thought of that!" Cato says sarcastically. "Obviously we're going to kill her."

"I'd like to see you try!" I spit at him. "Go ahead, try." I'm being as arrogant as I can because I know, back in District 12, Birch is watching this. So are Gale and Katniss and Prim. I won't let them see how terrified I am.

Cato raises his sword, about to deal me a death blow, when Peeta steps in front of me. "Don't," he says.

"What did you just say, Lover Boy?" Cato asks. By the look in his eyes, I know he expected Peeta to just stay quiet.

"Don't do it," Peeta repeats. "How much of a threat is she now? With that leg, she won't survive the night." He's probably right. "Why would you put her out of her misery? I thought you liked to cause misery, not end it." I can see the other Careers eyes flicker from me, to Cato, to Peeta. They're doubting Cato now, because what Peeta said is true.

Cato begins to lower his sword. Peeta turns around and helps me up. There's a cut where Cato punched him. "I told you I would protect you with my life," he whispers before giving me a light shove and saying, "Now, get out of here." I blink at him and turn my back. I look for a good place to start running. _The bushes. _A few yards away, there's a thicket of bushes. I think they're bramble bushes, which will protect me well. I bolt toward them, looking back now and again to see if the Careers decided to pursue me instead.

Once I'm safetly concealed by the brambles, I sit down. Peeta just saved my life. In a way, I'm grateful. But protecting me made me look weaker than ever... Still, I know I'll be in debt to him. I saved his life once, he saved my life once. Maybe we're even now. I glance to my left and notice I tiny camera sitting next to me, camouflauged in the thorns. Then I think, _The audience probably loved that. _My teasing the Careers, Cato falling in his pathetic attempt to reach me, my falling from the tree, Peeta stepping in Cato's way. That audience must've been on the edge of their seats that whole time.

I find a tree not too far from the brambles and decide to spend my night in that one. This tree isn't too far from the last one I almost died in, but I don't care because, in a way, I want the Careers to find me so I can kill them all. Climbing this tree is agonizing, considering I have an open wound in my left leg. When I finally reach my desired height and branch, I'm out of breath. I examine the cut on my leg and I nearly faint at the sight of it. Dried blood is all around it and fresh blood is stil pouring out from it. I open my canteen and pour some water over it, which only makes it burn more.

After that ordeal, I lay my head back and watch the sky. It's turning into night now and I see the moon overhead. _Pretty, _I think. But I know, this isn't the moon I look at in District 12. This moon was created by the Gamemakers. I sigh and I wonder if Gale or Katniss is looking at their moon, too.

Then I hear rustling in the tree beside me. I freeze, the turn my head cautiously to the right and I see too curious brown eyes peering out at me. It's Rue, the girl from District 11. I reach for my knives, but then stop, because she starts backing off. _You aren't going to try and kill me, are you? _I smile at her and wave. She waves back then points down. I follow her finger, and see the Careers, once again. _I'm so sick of seeing your faces..._

None of them seem to be in a good mood like they were when they killed the girl who started the fire. This time, they're all spread out and have hateful expressions on their faces and I realize that it's because Peeta let me go. Peeta! I look for him in the group of Careers. I don't see him. _Did they really kill him? _I wouldn't be surprised if they did, but then I see his face. He has another cut on his face, a fresh one, by the look of it.

"We'll spend the night here," announces Cato. _What the hell...why here? _I sigh, annoyed. I seem to have a knack for picking trees that the Careers seem to love. Cato turns to Peeta. "And this time, you stay here. I'll take the first watch." Peeta nods and lays at the base of the tree.

"You're lucky you survived the rest of the day, Lover Boy," Clove tells him as she walks by.

"No thanks to you," Peeta retorts, pointing to the fresh cut on his face.

Clove just shrugs. "Orders are orders." So Cato told Clove to cut him, is that it? "You should learn to follow them more often."

Peeta turns his back on her and she goes to her spot. All the Careers settle down, except for Cato. _Of course, _I think angrily. If it was Glimmer or Clove who were on watch, maybe I could've slipped away without anyone noticing. But it had to be Cato. Then I realize something: where is the other boy? The other Career? The anthem starts playing, and my question is answered when the boy's face is projected in the sky. _Cato probably got tired of him..._

I turn my head to the left again to see if Rue is still there. She is. I motion my hand, trying to shoo her away, but she stays put. Then she taps her lips with her finger and points above my head. I look up. And I see it. It's a nest. Not a bird's nest, a tracker jacker's nest. Tracker jackers are the Capitol's muttations, and they're stings can kill you. If you get lucky enough to not die, powerful hollucinations start. I look at Rue. She nods to me and then leaps from branch to branch in the oppposite direction of the Careers.

"Peeta," I loudly whisper. "Peeta!" I try to wake Peeta up to tell him to get away from the Careers. Because I have a plan to get rid of them, and I don't want him to be caught in the middle of it, even if he did betray me. "Peeta!" He stirs and opens his eyes, looking directly at me.

"Briar!" he says when he sees me. "How did you get up there?"

"Before you and your little friends came, I was already here," I tell him.

Peeta looks around, making sure that no one is listening. "You need to get out of here," he says.

"No, _you_ need to get out of here," I counter. "Just run anywhere you can before it's too late."

"What are you talking about, Briar?" asks Peeta. "I can't just leave you there."

"You have to," I insist. I point up the the tracker jacker nest. "See that? I'm going to cut that branch and let it fall on the Careers. So, unless you want to get stung by them like they are, I suggest you clear out."

Peeta hesitates. "What about you?"

"I'm safe up in this tree," I remind him.

"Yeah, that's what you thought last time, too," says Peeta. "If I wasn't there, you'd be dead right now."

"Whatever," I say dismissively. "Just leave, okay? I'll come look for you after they're gone." Surprisingly, Peeta nods, picks up his stuff, and jogs away.

I wait until dawn to carry out my plan using the tracker jackers. The Careers are starting to wake up. That's when I move. Up the tree and toward the branch that the nest hangs on. I pull out one of my knives and begin sawwing at the branch. Almost instantly, the jackers are on me, climbing on my arms and neck. I try to fight the rising panic as one stings me, then another, then another. The pain is excrutiating, but I keep sawwing, and finally, the branch gives way and the nest falls to the ground. Right next to the Career Tributes.

The nest bursts open and the tracker jackers form a swarm. They land all over the Careers, stinging every part of exposed skin they can find. The Careers jump awake, and start running back to the Cornucopia. Cato grabs Clove and they take off with the boy called Marvel following closely behind.

Glimmer, however, isn't as lucky. The jackers are all over her body. She starts screaming her head off and she falls, only making them angrier. They keep stinging her until I don't even recognize her anymore. Then they all leave at the same time to chase after the others. I drop down to the ground to examine Glimmer. Her face was stung so many times that it's now twice the size that it was. Then I notice something in her hand. It's the bow. I lean down and pry her fingers off. Once I have the bow in my hands, I reach for her quiver of arrows, which is stuck under her dead body. I roll her over and grab the arrows. _Finally, _I think.

I hear the cannon sound and take off, knowing that the hovercraft will be there soon to take Glimmer's body away. I'm suddenly aware of the pain my leg is still in. Just then, I collapse. But it's not from the pain in my leg, it's from my head feeling extremely sick. I put my hand to me head and I start seeing spots all over. On the trees, on the ground, on my other hand, on Peeta's face... Peeta! _I thought I told you to clear out! _He starts shaking me, which doesn't help my head or my stomach. _The tracker jackers! _I remember how many times I got stung...one, two, three. Three times, just enough to start hollucinating and not be able to focus.

Peeta starts shaking me again. "Briar! Briar, you have to move!" he says.

"S-stop shaking me, Peeta!" I say back, trying to push him off me. "Let go of me."

"Briar, you don't understand! You have to get out of here!" The ugency in his voice can't be ignored, and I wonder what the problem is.

"W-what? I...I don't..." I try to use words, but nothing comes out of my mouth. I just sit there and stammer until Peeta picks me up and starts running. The feeling of his arms completely enwrapping me makes me feel like a butterfly in a cocoon. "Peeta...what are...what are you doing?" I realize I must sound like I'm drunk.

"We're getting out of here," says Peeta. I can barely hear him now. I look up at his face. He's glistening like he has gems all over. _Pretty, _I think. I reach up and touch his face.

"Briar, what's wrong with you?" he asks. His voice sounds so panicked now...I'm worried for him. "What's wrong with you?"

I can't speak, only put my hand to my head like I have been doing. Peeta starts running again. I wonder even more now what's wrong. What could the problem be? It's such a pretty day, and...

"Briar!" Peeta yells. I don't have time to respond before I fall down a deep ditch. My eyes are closed, but only for a second. When I open them again, I can see the top of the ditch, and the people around it. It's just Peeta...wait, not anymore. Cato is there too. He looks angry...I wish I could move so I could see more. I can see his sword. And I can see Peeta laying on the ground. And I see the sword moving toward him. But that's it. _What's he doing? _I wonder. _Wait...oh, no... _The knowledge that Peeta is being attacked slips into my head just as quickly as I slip out of conciousness.

When I wake up, the first thing that I think of is Peeta. He saved my life. Again. And he was attacked by Cato. I remember seeing Cato at the top of the ditch I fell in...and I remember seeing Peeta on the gound. Peeta...he's dead now. I'm sure of it. He's dead, and I was unconsious when they sounded the cannon. And tonight his face will be projected in the sky. I feel a tear slide down my cheek.

I put my hand to my neck where a tracker jacker stung me. It has leaves bandaged onto it. I peel the leaves off and look at them. I've never seen them before. There are leaves on my wrist and leg too. I look around and sit up. I'm not in the ditch anymore, I'm in a meadow. It's beautiful here, and I can't help wondering if I'm dead. If Cato came to finish me after he killed Peeta. But I know I'm not dead when I see Rue, watching me from a tree. How long has she been there? She lifts her little hand and waves. I wave back and say, "Come here, Rue." I beckon to her.

She hesitates for a moment, eyeing the knives I have on my belt, but her curiosity overcomes her fear and she comes toward me. "Yes?"

I don't know what I want to say to her, actually. I just wanted her to come over. "Um...how long have I been out?" I finally ask.

"Oh, about two days," says Rue. "I replaced your leaves three times, but I think you were right in taking them off. Your stings should be better by now. I thought you were dead."

"Wow. Thanks," I say. The last thing I expected was to be taken care of by another tribute. "Do...do you know? I mean, do you know what happened after I fell down that ditch?"

"I don't know much," Rue tells me. "But I did see that big blonde boy."

"Which one?" I ask, since both Peeta and Cato are blonde. "The one with the sword or the really muscular one?"

"I think it was the muscular one," she says.

"That's Peeta," I tell Rue. She scratches her head and then nods.

"Okay, well, I saw Peeta. He got attacked by the one with the sword." Of course he did... "I saw him limp away. Into the thicker trees."

"He's alive?" I gasp. A huge smile creeps across my face.

"When I saw him, he was," Rue says, crushing my mood. But she's only being honest. If that was two days ago, Peeta could very well be dead now.

"Oh," is all I manage to say after that.

"Yeah, sorry. I know he was your friend," says Rue sympathetically.

_He was more than that, Rue. _"Where did the one with the sword stab Peeta?"

"Oh, just in the leg. Not in his stomach or his heart, if that's what you mean." Rue begins gnawing on a katniss root and hands me one. "You know, Peeta's very brave."

"Why?" I ask. I begin munching on the katniss root, though I'm not very hungry.

"Don't you remember?" Rue asks. When I shake my head, she says, "Because, when you collapsed after getting stung by all those tracker jackers, Cato was coming back to kill you, since he figured out it was you who dropped the nest on them. But Peeta got there before him. When you told him to leave, he never really left. He was always close to you and out of the Careers way at the same time. Anyway, he tried to shake you awake and was yelling your name and trying to get you to move. You probably couldn't move, even if you wanted to. Peeta saw Cato coming for you, so he picked you up and got you out of there." Rue takes another bite of her katniss root, then goes on. "Cato cut his back a little, though and Peeta fell. That's why you were in that ditch. And then...well, you know the rest."

I look at the gound. "I can't believe it..." I murmur. "Peeta actually meant what he promised." I sort of forgot Rue was listening to me until I saw her big brown eyes staring at me. "Back in the Training Center," I begin. "Peeta and I promised each other we'd protect the other. With our lives, if it came to that."

"Wow," says Rue. Her face is completely lit up by my story. "Why'd you do that? You know only one person gets out of here alive, right?"

"Because Peeta and I are best friends," I tell her simply. "We've known each other forever. We love each other..."

"Oh, I know that," Rue says, getting to her feet. Then she gives me a little teasing smile.

"What do you mean?" I ask her.

"Back at the interview with Caesar? Everyone heard Peeta's confession. So, now, everyone knows you love each other," Rue tells me wittingly. "Well, I guess I better head out now. If you can find leaves that look like that, I'd take them if I were you. Just in case."

"Thank you, Rue. For all your help," I say graciously.

"You're welcome," she says, gathering her things. "I hope it all works out with...you know, Peeta and everyone." Then she bolts for the trees and disappears. I watch the trees, swaying as Rue leaps from each one to the next.

I start to regret not taking Rue as my ally. She's smart, quick, and she could've kept up with me easily. But seeing as I have a slight chance of ever coming across her again, I don't worry much about having to fight her. I could kill her with no trouble at all, but I know I would never do that. I think part of it is that she reminds me of Prim, the very girl I saved.

I get to my feet again and start for the trees in the opposite direction Rue went. I walk for a long time, looking for I don't know what, exactly. Maybe I'm looking for any signs of Peeta. Maybe I'm looking for water. Maybe I'm actually looking for the Careers so I can have my revenge on Cato. I have arrows now, so any fear or respect I had for him has gone. The very thought of Cato killing Peeta makes me so enraged and sad and teary-eyed all at the same time. I keep walking, until I come across a mine that nearly blows me twenty feet into the air.

I fall to the ground and watch the leaves around the explosion blow all around me in a frenzy. I'm so surprised and scared that I can't even move. _Come on, Briar. You can do it, _I tell myself. I kick my legs, I reach my arms up, and then I finally am able to sit up. I look around, dazed. My sight is blurry, and I can't hear much. I take a breath and stand up. If there's one mine, there have to be others too. I survey the area, looking for any clue as to where the other mines might be. I look to my left and see a bush with big berries on it. I pluck a few off and start to cautiously move forward, throwing a berry on the ground in front of me. Only once or twice does a mine explode, and because of the berries, I have a chance to brace myself.

At last, I've gotten through all the mines without getting blown up. I smile at my accomplishment, but my happiness is ruined by the sound of laughter off in the distance. I begin to piece the whole situation together, the mines, the laughter. It's the Careers. They were actually smart enough to set up mines around...maybe it's a camp they've made? Or a stash of food and weapons like the Cornucopia. The laughter comes closer and I barely have enough time to scurry up a tree before I see Cato and Clove walk under the tree I've hidden in.

"Cato, are you sure you killed him?" Clove asks. "I mean, did you go back and make sure he was really dead?"

"Relax, Clove," Cato says coolly. "I know where I stabbed him. It wasn't directly in the chest or anywhere. I got him in the leg, but he's as good as dead anyway. He's probably bled out by now."

"You idiot!" Clove shouts, giving Cato a shove. "Why didn't you just kill him on the spot?"

"Come on, you know me." Cato grabs Clove by the shoulders. "I like to make people suffer before they die."

"Oh, I always liked that about you," Clove admits. Apparently, Peeta and I aren't the only ones sharing a romance. At least theirs is real, though.

"Trust me, he's dead. Probably has been for the last day or so."

_That's it, _I think. Cato telling Clove so confidentally that Peeta is dead...it sends a flame running through me. Before I even think, an arrow is in my hand and loaded in my bow. I shoot. Straight at Cato. Straight for, not his head, but his leg. _Let's see how you like being hurt in the leg. _The arrow hits its target perfectly, burying itself right in his calf. He yells in pain and drops to the ground.

"Where did that even come from?" Clove gasps. "Don't worry, Cato. We'll...we'll get you fixed."

I should send an arrow through her, too. I should finish them off. But I don't. There's no need to. Because I've already inflicted enough pain in both of them. Thankfully, Clove's eyes are glued to Cato, not searching for the culprit behind the attack. She's shushing him and brushing his hair away from his face and she might even be crying a little. _Don't worry, Clove, _I tell her. I'm starting to feel a bit of sympathy for her. _He won't die. Not yet, anyway. _

She starts dragging Cato away from the tree I'm sitting in. After she's gone, I jump down from my tree and follow the trail Cato's blood left. I follow it for a long time before seeing a huge clearing like the one Rue took care of me in. I lay low in a patch of tall wildflowers and watch the Careers as they all gather around Cato to see what's wrong.

"What happened?" asks Marvel.

"Cato took an arrow to the leg, obviously!" Clove shouts angrily. Marvel steps back. Clove pulls one of her knives on him, but another boy, from District 3, I think, steps in front of her and stops her before she can kill him.

"Well, what should we do?"

"I don't know! That's why I brought him here!"

"Calm down, Clove. We'll get your little boyfriend fixed."

"He is _not _my boyfriend!"

"Whatever. Do you want him fixed or not?"

"Of course I do, idiots! Just do it!"

As the Careers are arguing, I start to think about how I could kill the rest of them off. Maybe...I could stay in a tree and shoot them. But they might notice it's me before I can kill all of of them. Maybe I could kill each of them, one by one, at different times. No. I don't exactly relish the thought of killing all the Careers, whether they're together or alone. I don't want them to die directly at my hand.

My mind flickers back to the mines I encountered. A buzzer goes off in my head. That's what I'll do! I'll lead the Careers into the mine field. They'll all be killed at once, and technically, I won't be the one that killed them. But how do I lead them there? Use myself as live bait? I could. But I rethink that idea. Odds are, one of them is going to catch me, and this time, Peeta isn't here to help me. I could use another form of bait. Fresh meat, maybe. By the look of the pile of food they already have, I don't think they'll be very tempted.

I give up on thinking of clever, not dangerous ways to lure them into the mine field. I'm going to have to use myself as live bait, and just hope that they don't throw a spear or a knife at me. I get up, take one last look at the Careers gathered around Cato, and bid them goodbye. For now, at least.

I walk through the trees, throwing berries in front of me like I did last time. I think about Peeta. Where is he? Is he still alive? If he is, what sort of condition is he in? Will I ever see him again? I stop thinking about that. Instead, I think about Gale and Katniss. What are they doing right now? Are they in the woods, like I am? Are they watching me carry out my plan? Are they in the bakery with Mr. Mellark, talking to him about Peeta and I?

As soon as I'm about fifty yards away from the Careers and just in front of the mine field, I stretch my legs for a second, then scream at the top of my lungs. _They won't be able to resist the sounds of another weak tribute, ready to be slaughtered. _I scream again. Then decide to really play them. "Peeta!" I yell. "Peeta! Help! I'm stuck!" I barely have time to get out the last two words before I hear the sound of footsteps coming for me. They crash through the trees and as soon as they see me, they sprint toward me with their weapons ready.

I get a three second head start. With the berries gripped in my hand, I run through the woods, casting a berry in front of my feet whenever I can. I look behind me and see Marvel, spear in hand. He's about to hurl it at me, when he steps on a mine and it explodes, pushing him back and down to the ground. Through the smoke comes Clove. Her throwing knives glisten as the sun hits them. She trips over one of the mines, but it doesn't explode. _Lucky for her. _

I turn my head back toward the trees. They're getting thicker now, making them harder to dodge. For the Careers. I weave in and out with no problem. I look behind me again and see Clove, so close that she's reaching for me now. I look forward, not wanting to see the anger in her face. Then I see something else. A mine. Not more than ten feet in front of me. When I get close enough, I leap right over it. I hear the explosion and slow down, confident that they've given up. I see Clove, lying on the ground, unconcious it seems. Or dead. And I see Cato. Cato? Where did he come from? His leg is bandaged now. Maybe he followed them. Well, followed Clove, to be more exact. He's ontop of her, guarding her from the falling rubble the mine stirred up. He gets off of Clove, on unsteady legs, and tries to pick her up. His injured leg doesn't allow it , though, and he falls again.

"Clove?" I hear him whisper. "Clove? You can't be dead! You didn't even get hit! You can't be dead! You just can't be!" Cato's eyes start to tear. I'm suddenly filled with remorse. _What have I done? _"Clove...please..."

Then I do something I never expected to find myself do. I walk up to Cato, slowly at first, but then I break into a run. I kneel down on the opposite side of Clove. Cato doesn't react beyond glaring at me, telling me to leave before he kills me himself. I know he doesn't mean it. Maybe he means it, but it doesn't matter, because he's weaponless. Cato could easily kill me with his bare hands, though.

I shake my head at him, brushing him off. He doesn't say anything or look at me again. I put my hand in front of Clove's mouth and feel a soft breath coming from it. I lay my hand on her chest, and feel a strong, steady heartbeat. "She's not dead," I tell Cato. "She's just unconcious."

Cato hesitates. "Are you sure?" he asks.

"Here," I say. "Put your hand here." I guide his hand to Clove's chest. "Feel that? It's called a heartbeat. And her's is good and strong."

"I know what a heartbeat is!" Cato snaps. "I'm not stupid."

I shrug. "Never said you were," I murmur. Then I reach into my backpack. Cato tenses, ready to lung at me if I pull out a knife or any weapon of sort. I'm not going for a weapon. I wouldn't kill either of them. Not now, anyway. My hand presses against a metal cylinder... "Here." I hold out the container of medicine Haymitch sent me to Cato. "Your leg needs this."

Cato takes the medicine. He opens the lid and eyes it suspiciously. "How do I know this isn't poisoned?" he asks.

"Where would I have gotten poison? And where would I have gotten a container like that?" I counter. "Containers like that only come from sponsors."

"Hm," Cato grunts. He takes off the lid and scoops up a small amount of the medicine. He takes off his bandage and applies it gently to the wound my arrow caused. He smiles at the relief the medicine leaves. "You're the one who shot me, aren't you?"

I'm taken aback by his question. How could he have known it was me? Do I tell him it was me? Or do I act like I don't know what he's talking about? "Um...yes," I say finally. No point in trying to avoid the question. He's going to hunt me down, one way or another. "Sorry...I just...when you were telling Clove that you were sure Peeta was dead...I don't know. I just...it made me...you know, sad. And maybe a little angry, too." I look at Cato, then at Clove. I push Clove's hair away from her face. "I don't ever want to let go of the hope that he's still alive. Would you want to believe that Clove was dead, just because someone told you? Or would you hope that maybe she was still alive, and go out and look for her?"

"I can't afford to think like that," Cato tells me flattly. Then he pauses. "I love her. But I can't leave my family for her."

I sigh. I never thought I would be having a conversation like this with Cato, of all people. A Career, a killer, and a person who was hopelessly in love with a girl he can never truly be with. I feel a pang of sympathy for him. Peeta and I, we can at least see each other on a daily basis. But Cato probably doesn't get to talk to Clove much back in District 1. Cato probably works, Clove probably works, and they probably don't get to share much time together. Just because they produce the luxury items, doesn't mean they're any better off than we are in District 12.

"Would you kill her? I mean, if it was just you two left in the arena, would you kill her?" I ask him.

Cato looks at Clove, then at me, then at Clove again. "No," he says quietly. "No, I couldn't. I would let her kill me. We're from the same District; having her win would be more of a benefit for my family than anyone else winning."

"You would let her kill you?" It's exactly what Peeta told me he would do.

"Yes," says Cato. "I would."

He tosses the can of medicine back to me. Honestly, I expected him to take it. I'm surprised he didn't. "I don't suppose you have anything for Clove, too?" he asks pleadingly. I look through my backpack. I know I don't have any medicine for her, but instead, I take out the briar rose that I found inside.

"No," I tell Cato. He puts his head down. "But here. Take this. Give it to Clove when she waked up. Maybe she'll know who it's from."

I hand him the briar rose. Cato takes in gently from my hand. He examines it more closely, then breathes, "It's a briar rose, isn't it?"

"Yes. I found it in my backpack," I say, shaking my bag. Cato nods, still examining the flower. He lays it in Clove's outstretched hand. I get to my feet. Cato looks at me suspiciously and get up with me. "I hope you and Clove make it. Maybe, if the Capitol sees how much you love her, they'll let you both go home," I say with a smile, trying to sound like I'm positive what I say will happen.

"Maybe," Cato says unsurely. "I'll make sure Clove knows who that's from, and that you saved my life with that medicine." Then he extends his hand. I only hesitate a moment before I take it, and we shake.

I nod and start walking in the opposite direction of the Career's camp and the mine field. The mine field! I whip around to face Cato, and say, "Oh, when you're walking back through that mine field, make sure you have berries or something to throw a good distance in front of you, so you know if there's a mine or not."

Cato smiles. "Thanks, Twelve. And by the way, I think we're in each others debt, so if I see you again, I won't kill you."

I'm so surprised that escaped from Cato's lips. He just said he wouldn't kill me. I start to wonder if my mind was playing tricks on me. I don't have time to make sure. Cato picks up Clove, and begins the slow journey back through the mine field. _I hope he makes it, _I think honestly to myself. _I hope they both do..._


	3. Part 3

"Attention, tributes. There has been a rule change. If two tributes from the same District survive to the end, both may go home, together." Claudius Templesmith's voice booms down from overhead while I'm asleep in a tree. The voice nearly shakes me from the limb I'm sitting on. I'm jerked wide awake. I shake my head groggily. _What did he just say? _I wonder. Then, Claudius's words sink in. A rule change? That's surprising since there aren't many rules we're required to follow in the Games.

Claudius pauses, then repeats the rule change again. "Both tributes from the same District may go home together, if they are the last too alive." At last, the full shock of the news sinks in. Two tributes can win this year. If they're from the same District. Both can live. Both of us can live.

"Peeta," I whisper. A goal is set for me in my head: find Peeta. Keep him alive. Keep both of us alive until the very end. We can go home. We can both go home. Isn't that just what I told Cato might happen? "Oh, no," I mutter. I told Cato that this would happen! What if he has his heart set on going home with Clove? What can Peeta and I do then? I certainly wouldn't kill them. Cato wouldn't kill me. He said so himself that he wouldn't. Clove, because Cato, more likely than not, told her that I saved him, wouldn't kill me either. And if I asked Peeta not to kill them, he wouldn't. We've reached a stalemate. There's still Marvel to consider, of course. And Rue and Thresh, the boy from District 11. And the one boy from District 3. And...there should be one more, but I can't think of who it is.

I shrug and climb down my tree. The early light of dawn is now sinking through the leaves in the trees. I look up. The sun looks beautiful, as it hasn't in many days. I jog through the trees for a while and come to a ditch, the same ditch I fell in. Or, rather, was dropped in. This is what I was looking for. This is the last place I saw Peeta. I figure, if I should start looking for him anywhere, it should be here.

Rue said that she saw Peeta go into thicker trees. I look all around and at last, I see them. Pines. A whole pine forest. I head toward them, when suddenly, I hear a high pitched scream. A girl's scream. I turn my head to where the sound is coming from and see Rue, tangled in a net. Then I see Marvel, with his spear in hand, as he drives it through her body.

"No!" I shriek as I race forward. Marvel doesn't have time to react before I send an arrow into his neck and blood starts gushing out from the wound. He drops to the ground and I go to Rue. "Rue! Rue!" I say as I lift her head onto my lap.

"Briarrose..." Rue whispers. I put my hand on her little heart and I can feel it already starting to slow. "Briarrose, I don't have any time left..."

"No, you do! You're going to be okay," I tell Rue reassuringly.

"No, I don't. But it's okay," says Rue bravely. "Briarrose...you have to win. You have to. You deserve it more than any of us. You have a heart of gold. You were the one who volunteered with pure intentions in your heart, so you deserve to win. Promise you'll try really hard to win?"

Tears are streaming down my face as I watch Rue's eyes flutter closed. "I promise," I whisper. A small smile crosses Rue's lips before she exhales her last and her heartbeat stops. "Goodbye, Rue," I say as I lean down and kiss her forehead. She's already starting to get colder. I wish I had some sort of plant to lay over her. Some sort of flower, maybe...

I turn to my left and see a single briar rose, as if appeared by magic. I pluck it instantly and lay it across Rue's chest and put her hands over it, like she's holding it. She looks like she could be sleeping. I kiss her forehead again, and leave her to rest. But not before I press my three fingers to my lips and raise them to the sky, showing the Capitol what they've caused.

_Back to finding Peeta, _I think as I wipe the last tears from my eyes. I shake any remaining images of Rue from my head and carry on. Even in death, life goes on. Peeta. I start to think about him instead of Rue. His eyes, his hair, his personality, his humor, his bravery. He's saved my life more than once. The least I can do is find him and, if he's still alive, save him for once.

I find a large stream flowing through the trees that are thinned out now. Water. I take advantage of this and fill up my canteen. Then I walk along the edge of the stream, looking for any signs of Peeta's presence, disturbed rocks, ripples in the water, footprints. At last, I see a blood stain on the larger rocks rising up around me. I'm not particularly happy about seeing blood stains. I wish there would be a sign besides blood to lead me to Peeta. But this is better than nothing. I scale up and down the rocks, looking for Peeta or for more blood stains. I see them, a few more blood stains, some clothe glued to it, but still no Peeta. _He must have moved farther downstream, _I think to myself. At least he was smart enough to get off of the beaten track.

I continue scaling the rocks which are beginning to diminish and turn into small stones. My foot barely breaks the water of the stream when I hear a voice.

"You here to finish me off, sweetheart?"

I turn my head to the left, where the voice came from. At first, I dare to think it was Haymitch. Who else would call me "sweetheart"? But then I remember, Haymitch is miles away from here. It must be Peeta. I take a step backwards, away from the water. "Well, don't step on me." A protest comes from directly behind me.

"Peeta?" I whisper. "Peeta, where are you?"

"Where do you think?" His voice is hoarse, but alive, which is enough for me. I turn around and kneel down to the ground. Sure enough, there's Peeta, lying in a puddle of mud and dirt and grass. He's only visible when he opens his eyes and smiles, revealing the whites of his eyes and his white teeth. I smile back at him, extremely relieved that I found him. And that he's alive. He's alive! It takes me a second to realize that for the past day, I thought he was dead. But he's not. He looks as though he's very close to it, but he's not.

"You're alive," I whisper happily. I put my hand on his muddy, painted cheeks. Forget throwing weights around. Peeta should've shown the Gamemakers how to paint yourself to look like mud and dirt and grass and all sorts of other nature.

"Unless this is what death feels like, yes. I am," Peeta says with a smile. I can't believe he's still in such a good mood.

"I can't believe it," I breathe. I rub my hand gently along his cheek, trying to push some of the paint and dirt off his face.

"Believe it."

I laugh. "I guess all those years decorating cakes paid off."

"Yes," says Peeta. "Frosting. The final defense of the dying."

I frown at him. "You're not going to die," I tell him.

"Says who?" Peeta asks. He starts to move his arms, trying to free them. What I presumed to be his arms and legs and body is actually just a layer of water weeds and mud. He pulls his right arm free and touches my hand, which is still trying to remove the paint.

"Says me," I tell him sternly. "You're not going to die. I promise. We're on the same team now. I won't let you die."

Peeta just nods. I pull my hand away and reach for my canteen. I pull it open and give Peeta a drink. Then I pour some of the water into my palm and splash it on his face. He splutters. "What was that for?" he asks.

"I want to get this mud and paint off your face so I can actually see you," I say, rubbing the water around on his cheeks, removing the dirt and artwork. "You know, I want to see the you I remember. The one I saw when you...when you saved me."

"I have quite a habit of doing that, don't I?" Peeta laughs. "I don't mind saving you. I told you I'd protect you with my life."

I sigh. The words "I love you" almost escape my lips, but I hold them back. Instead, I say, "I know." It sounds terrible. "I told you I would protect you with my life, too. I haven't done such a good job with that."

"You're doing it right now," says Peeta. "Taking care of me, washing my face. You might not see it, but you are saving me right now. And at the beginning, when we were at the Cornucopia, you threw a knife at that guy I was fighting with."

"You saw that?" I ask.

"No one else throws knives like that."

I continue to wipe the dirt and mud and paint from Peeta's face. He just stares at me the whole time, like he's never seen a person washing someone else's face before. I smile. Finally, after about five minutes of washing, Peeta's face is just as I last saw it. Handsome, young, strong. "Thanks," he says.

"Did Cato cut you?" I ask, pouring some more water into his mouth.

"Left leg. In the calf and again up higher," says Peeta.

"He got you twice?" I almost shriek.

"Twice," nods Peeta. "Unless you count this." He holds out his arm and I see a gash, not too deep, running from his wrist to his elbow. "And he caught me on my back, too."

"I could kill him right now," I say. But I know I couldn't ever do that. Not to Cato. Especially after the conversation we had. Cato told me he wouldn't kill me next time he saw me, so I won't kill him.

"Don't worry about it," Peeta says easily. "They don't hurt that much." He tries to sit up and winces. _Liar, _I think. He rests his head against a tree and looks into the sky, which is turning a mysterious yellow and orange color. Then he looks at me. I stare back at him. His eyes are filled with grief. I can't figure out why. He's alive, isn't he? "I missed you," he murmurs. He leans over to me and wraps his hand around my neck.

"I missed you, too," I say, pressing my cheek angainst his hand. "But I found you. And you're alive. And we can both go home."

"Unless I die before-" Peeta begins. I put my hand over his mouth.

"Stop saying that," I whisper. "You aren't going to die. You aren't. I promise. I won't let that happen."

Peeta stays silent. He brushes my cheek with his hand, and jerks it away when he feels a cut that I got from the mines. "Where'd you get that?" he asks. "Did Clove get you?"

"No," I tell him. "There was a mine field. I led the Careers into it and then Cato and..." I break off, not wanting to tell Peeta about my conversation with Cato and how in love with Clove he is. Peeta leans over and kisses me, right on my cut.

"Um...why don't we get you cleaned up a little more?" I say, trying to keep my face from getting too red. Peeta nods. "Okay...um...can you move at all?"

Peeta can move his arms fine, but his legs are what I'm really worried about. He tries to stand up. He can, but only for a minute. I'm suddenly aware of how deep Cato's sword cut him. Right down to the bone.

"Sort of," says Peeta after testing out his mobility.

"Nevermind," I say. "You're close enough to the stream anyway." He is. He's not even a foot away from the water. It's close enough. "Keep an eye on the woods for me, will you?"

I start to feel Peeta's chest, searching for his clothes. But they're so caked with mud and dirt and grass that I can't even tell if he's wearing any. I take my canteen out and pour some of the water down his front. He shudders as it gets into the gashes on his leg. I start to rub away the dirt and find that he's still fully clothed. I carefully ease his shirt off him. His undershirt is so plastered to his skin that I have to cut it off with one of my knives. I pour another quart of water on him. More dirt runs off of his body and I see just how damaged he really is. Almost his entire chest is burned and bruised, and his arms have numerous cuts and scrapes on them. He only has one tracker jacker sting on his shoulder. And his legs are fine, other than the two gashes on the left one.

I smile. These I know I can treat. For the burns, I need ice. But since there are no ways to turn the stream water into ice, I have to settle for cold water. I use an old trick Birch showed me. I fill the canteen halfway, dig a hole right next to a tree that's casting a long shadow, and put the canteen in the hole. The tempature underground is colder than above ground, so this cools the water. As for his sting, I pull out a few of the leaves Rue gave me and quickly apply them to his shoulder.

I move to Peeta's legs. I cautiously take a palmfull of stream water and drip it on the two gashes. Peeta winces, but doesn't complain. I take a piece of cloth out of my bag and gently rub around the cuts, removing any dirt that could lead to blood poisoning. I don't dare touch the actualy cut, since the cloth is now dirty as well. I pry his pants loose from his skin and slip them off, surprisingly, without any trouble.

I take the canteen out from its hole and tell Peeta to brace himself. Then I slowly pour the cold water over his chest. After the canteen is empty, I sit and massage his chest, working the cold water into his system. After that, he sits up.

"Is it over?" he asks.

"No," I say, shaking my head. I reach into my backpack and take out the container of medicine Haymitch sent me. I scoop some onto my fingers.

"What's that?" says Peeta, eyeing the medicine suspiciously.

"Medicine, for you cut," I tell him. He nods and, gently as I possibly can, I press the medicine into the first cut, the worse of the two. Peeta grits his teeth and closes his eyes. I see the muscles tense up in his arms as his hands form into fists. "This will help," I reassure him. Then I kiss him again. After I've applied a liberal amount of medicine to each cut, I sigh.

"Now, is it over?" asks Peeta. He locks his gaze on mine.

"Yes," I say. "I think that's the best I can do for now." I pull out some of the berries I used to check for mines before. "Here, eat these."

"No, thanks," Peeta says, pushing my hand away.

"You need to eat something," I insist.

"No. It'll just come right back up. It's funny, I haven't been hungry for a while." I put my hand on Peeta's forehead. It's unmistakably warm. That's when I realize just what kind of shape he's really in. I lean over and kiss his top lip. Warm. just like the rest of his body. I persist in trying to get him to eat, and actually do manage to get him to eat a piece of the dried beef. "Thanks. I feel much better now, really."

I glance at his arm with the gash running along it. It doesn't look too bad anymore. "How's your arm now?" I ask.

Peeta picks up a small rock and throws it into a bush. What seems to be a thousand starlings rise up into the air. Instinctively, I grab one of my throwing knives and hurl it at one. It stabs it right in the chest and it falls to the ground. I smile at Peeta. Well, there's no huge problem with his arm.

After I collect the starling, I begin to wonder if I could so something more to help Peeta's leg. It's so gruesome looking, the swollen skin, the dried blood, and the smell of festering flesh. I put the starling in my backpack and zip it closed.

"My leg looks pretty bad, huh?" says Peeta, watching me closely.

"I've seen worse." It's true. I'm sort of a healer in District 12, like Katniss's mother and sister. But people go to them with disease related and internal issues. People come to me when they have external problems, like head injuries, being shot in the arm, falling out of a tree and tearing the skin from the leg. All of these I've seen plenty of. Peeta's leg, however, is so disturbing. I immediately want to patch it up, but for cuts like these, you have to let them air out first, so all the bacteria can leave the wound. Then you can bandage it. "We have to let the cuts air out first. Then I can bandage them a little."

I begin to wash Peeta's clothes. I look back at him, sitting against the rocks. I intended to leave his undershorts on, because there didn't seem to be any problem with them. But now I see that they're actually teeming with bacteria and can easily lead to infection. I sigh.

"Here," I say, throwing Peeta my jacket. "Cover yourself with this and give me your undershorts."

Peeta only laughs. "Oh, I don't care if you see me."

"Well, I do," I say, laughing myself. "Now, strip." I turn my back to him. I hear him moving around, taking his shorts off, and then he throws them. Right at the back of my head. I whip around to him, scowling, but laughing at the same time. He winks at me. I stick my nose up at him and turn back around. It's nice to have someone to fool around with again.

I pick up Peeta's undershorts and toss them into the stream with the rest of his clothes. I let them sit there for a while, and just stare at them. I wonder what Katniss is doing right now. And Gale. And Birch. And even little Primrose. I shake my head to clear it and wade into the water. I scrub Peeta's clothes against a rock until all the dirt and mud is gone.

I look up from the stream and see a small speckle of white light in the trees in front of me. I squint my eyes, trying to see what it is. Since I only see more light, I put Peeta's clothes against a rock to dry, and climb out of the stream. Peeta's looking at me, like he thinks I'm going crazy. I point to the light and he nods. I start toward the light and as I near it, I realize it's a parachute. I go and grab it and pull the container open. It's more medicine. Good. I was running out. And white bandages.

I take the parachute back to Peeta and show him the contents. "Medicine and bandages," I say.

"I always knew Haymitch favored you," says Peeta gloomily.

"Please," I say, shaking my head at him. "He can't stand being in the same room with me for more than a few minutes."

"That's because you two are so alike." Peeta told me this before, but I never believed him. Maybe he's right, though. Maybe me and Haymitch are alike.

"This parachute is for you, isn't it?" I remind him.

"But Haymitch had it delivered to you," Peeta counters. "I wonder why?"

I hesitate. I know why Haymitch sent it to me and not Peeta. It's because he knows that me taking care of Peeta, spending time with him, I do consider it all a gift. To be with him, and take care of him, and laugh with him. Just like we used to in District 12. "Probably because he's just trying to play up the whole 'star-crossed lover' thing." I whisper because I know, right now, the cameras are bound to be trained on Peeta and I. Saying the words hurts me. Because I know Peeta thinks that's really the reason Haymitch sent it to me.

"We have to go now," I say quietly.

"Go where?" Peeta asks.  
"Away from here. It's not safe for you to be out in the open."

"I'll be okay," says Peeta taking my hand.

I scoff at him. "Yeah, you've been just fine laying out here for the past three days."

Peeta stays silent, but I see a smile crossing his face. I give him his clothes and he dresses quickly. Then I help him to his unsteady feet and we walk, rather, stumble, along the stream's bank until I feel Peeta leaning on my shoulder more and more. I look at his face. He's as pale as anything, and he looks like he's going to black out. "I think this is far enough," I finally say.

Luckily, the rocks around us form many cave-like structures. I set my eyes on one about twenty yards away. I coax Peeta to his feet again and half-guide, half-drag him to the cave. When we're finally inside, Peeta's panting like a sick dog. I kiss him on the cheek.

I get to work wrapping to bandages around Peeta's leg. After I finish, he looks at me. "Briar," he says. "Thanks for finding me." I brush his hair away from his face.

"You would have found me, if I was in the situation you were in," I say. I feel his forehead again. It's cooler, but not by much. Suddenly, I'm overcome with sadness at the tought that he might die.

"Yes, I would," says Peeta. "Briar, if I don't make it back-"

"Peeta, don't talk like that," I say, putting my fingers to his lips. "You're going to make it back. We both are."

"But just in case I don't-" Peeta begins again.

"No. I don't even want to discuss it," I say again. I lock my green eyes on him. Peeta's always been intimidated by my eyes because he says, since they're the color of leaves, I could hide in a bush, spying on people, and they'd never know, no matter how much of my eyes showed.

"But I-" Peeta insists.

I lean over, and kiss him full on the lips. It's quite an effective way to shut him up. The feeling of kissing Peeta comes again. The feeling of satisfaction, or maybe happiness. Maybe both, mixed with a bunch of other feelings to. As I kiss him, my fear of him dying increases. I don't want him to die, obviously. If I could have been attacked by Cato instead of him, I would have. Peeta wouldn't have liked that any more, though. I like to believe he wouldn't be able to live without me. After all, I am still his best friend.

"You're not going to die," I tell Peeta. "I'm never going to let that happen. Okay?"

"Okay," says Peeta.

I look out into the sky from the mouth of the cave. It's dark now. Pitch black, with only the moon hanging in the sky. I look at the stars. They're beautiful, but they aren't really stars. They are, but they're the stars the Capitol made. I sigh and look behind me at Peeta. He's sleeping. I watch his chest rise and fall rythmically, and wonder what he's seeing right now in his dreams. All I've dreamed about since I got in the arena was Birch and Katniss and Gale. I miss them a lot, so at least I was able to visit them in my dreams at night.

I step out of the cave and breathe in the cool night air. I run. Away from the cave, not away from Peeta. I'll be back. I just need time to clear my head. I climb a small tree and sit on the highest branch. This game that Peeta and I are supposed to be playing, this stradegy, I can't do it anymore. I want real feelings from Peeta, not obligated ones. He doesn't love me like I love him. Maybe it's just better if I don't love him, either.

For a long time, I try to convince myself I'm not in love with Peeta. I'm not in love with him. I haven't fallen for him at all. We're just friends. That's it. I'm not in love with him. Why would I be? He's just a baker. Nothing more and nothing less. Just a baker. He and I don't belong together. I'm a hunter. I should be with another hunter, like Gale. That's who I should be with. Bread and arrows don't mix...

I sigh and lean my head against the tree. I look into the sky again, as if this will help me at all. I shake my head and give up trying to believe something that clearly isn't true. I am in love with Peeta. There's nothing I can do about it. Just then, I see another parachute coming toward me. It weaves its way through the leaves of the tree and lands in my lap. I open it. There's soup. Good.

I feel a piece of paper taped to the outside of the parachute. I peel it off and it reads:

_I know what you're thinking, sweetheart. Stop denying it! Embrace it. _

_True feelings are more believable than fake ones. You love this kid. _

_And he loves you. Deal with it. _

_-Haymitch_

I look at the soup. Haymitch is right. True feelings are more believable than fake ones. But...did it say that he loves me too? I look again. It does. Haymitch had to be drunk when he wrote this. Peeta doesn't love me. He said so himself that this is all a stradegy to get sponsors. And if sponsors are going to keep him alive, then I've got to play along.

I climb down the tree and head back to the cave. I see Peeta inside, still asleep. I go inside and shake him. He doesn't wake, so I kiss him awake. He opens his eyes and looks at me, then smiles. He's great at playing the part.

"I have a present for you," I say, holding out the soup. "From Haymitch."

Peeta says he isn't hungry, but after a bit of coaxing and a lot of kissing, he finishes the pot. He leans his head against the cave wall and sighs. I look at him and wonder, what's he thinking now? I can practically read Gale's mind all the time, but not Peeta's. This frusturates me.

Peeta dozes off soon after he finishes eating. I feel his forehead again. Warm, but not hot like it was. I go to the opposite side of the cave and stretch out. I can almost hear Haymitch screaming at me, "You're in love with the kid! Act like it!". So I move back over to Peeta and lay my head on his chest. _Better? _I ask Haymitch in my head. My breathing slows and I drift off into sleep.

When I wake up, the sky is still dark. I look at Peeta. He's awake now, and staring at me. How long has he been awake? And watching me? I manage a smile.

"How are you feeling?" he asks me.

This takes me aback. "How am I? How are you? Have you seen yourself?"

Peeta looks down at his cuts. "Right. I'm feeling a lot better, actually," he says.

"Do you need something to eat?" I ask. I pull our some of the starling I cooked earlier.

"No, thanks." Peeta shakes his head. "Go to sleep again. I'll keep watch."

"But you're the one who needs to sleep," I remind him. I sit up but Peeta pushes me right back down.

"I'm fine. Go back to sleep," he whispers. He props himself up against the cave wall. I roll on my side so my back is facing him. I feel his hand start brushing my hair away from my face and I drift back into sleep.

The next time I wake up, the sky is a rosy color. I turn to Peeta. He's fully alert now, and his fever looks like it's broken. I sit up and he looks at me and smiles. Then he leans over and kisses me.

"You were supposed to wake me up hours ago," I say.

"Why would I? There wasn't anything going on here," Peeta shrugs.

I sit up and move down to Peeta's legs. I remove his bandages. My heart sinks. It's worse. Not by much, but it's definitely worse. The bleeding has stopped, and the gash looks a little smaller in length. But it's still swollen and I'm afraid it might me infected.

"How is it?" Peeta asks, clearly noticing my unpleased faciall expressions.

"Um...it's okay," I lie. "I mean, it's not exactly better, but it's okay."

"I know what blood poisoning is, Briar," says Peeta. "Even if I'm not a healer."

"You're just going to have to outlast the others, Peeta," I tell him. "They'll get you fixed back at the Capitol when we win."

"That's a good idea," he says, mostly for my benefit.

"Eat this," I say, handing Peeta a piece of starling.

"I'm not very hungry..." he begins.

"You have to keep your strength up," I interupt. I lean over and kiss him. He smiles and takes the starling.

"Thanks."

We're running out of the starling meat. I'm not entirely comfortable with leaving Peeta alone in the cave, so I just set up a few snares and hope I get lucky. Then I go back inside the cave and see Peeta, sitting against the rock walls, looking as bored as ever. I feel sorry for him. I could never survive if I was immobile for that long. Once, I had fallen off a high tree limb, and cut my leg even worse than Peeta's is now. Birch had to find me and carry me home, then he had to put a special leaf on my leg to make it better...

Yes! The leaf! I remember what it looked like as clear as if it was yesterday. Big, jagged edged, ruby colored veins, rough on the sides but smooth on both faces. It looked like a giant version of the poisonous ivy that grew outside of District 12, which is why most people stayed away from it. Luckily, I remember how useful it is. I put my knives in my belt and grab my bow and arrows.

"I have to go," I say.

"Go where?" Peeta asks, immediately alert.

"To look for leaves for your leg," I tell him. He was probably afraid I was running out on him.

"Don't bother. It feels better," says Peeta, trying to look like he means what he says. I glance at him, then at his cut leg, then back at him.

"Maybe. But it's infected. You need it fixed, before the infection spreads to your heart." I start out the mouth of the cave when Peeta grabs my leg.

"You don't have to..." he begins. I jerk my leg away.

"Yes, I do," I say.

"Be careful," Peeta whispers. "I wouldn't be able to live with myself if you died for me."

"I'm not going to die." And I scurry out of the cave before Peeta can do anything else to hold me back.

I loaded my bow with an arrow just in case I really was attacked. Cato and Clove are probably going to fight even harder now that they know they both have a chance of going home. Cato might even go back on his word. Maybe. I walk for about ten minutes, aiming my bow at anything that moves. I hear scuffling to my right. I turn around. What I thought was Cate or Clove turns out to be only a rabbit. Still, I shoot it and lay it in my backpack, which is practically empty since I left my sleeping bag in the cave with Peeta.

I walk for another five minutes and come to a small group of weeping willow trees. I always loved these trees because I could go under the long sweeping tendrils that held the small leaves and hide there for as long as I wanted. There's a weeping willow in the middle of the meadow outside District 12. Gale and Katniss and I always hid under it and talked. Not that we really needed to hide, but being under the tree gave us a sense of security that was hard to find in 12. We would talk about everything, hunting, family, birds, water, plants, grass, mud. Little random things that would just pop into our heads.

I lifted the leaves of the willow and went inside, like we still do in District 12. I breathe in the fresh scent of the earth and the ground. I have another flashback, one of my favorite days in the early spring when we were all thirteen.

_"I think a gale is a wind, isn't it?" I ask Gale as we relax under our willow tree._

_ He shrugs. "Something like that," he says, chewing on a piece of clover root. _

_ "And katniss is a root," I say, turning to Katniss. _

_ "Yes," she says, peeking aroung the trunk of the willow. "My father always told me that if I find myself, I'll never go hungry." I laugh a little. _

_ "What about your name, Rosy?" Gale asks. "What's 'Briarrose' mean?" _

_ "Exactly what it sounds like," I tell him simply. "Well, actually, it can be either a rose in the middle of a briar patch, or it can be the actually flower. You know, those little pink and purple ones that we see a lot."_

_ "I love those flowers," he says. "They're so pretty." _

_ "'Briarrose' can translate to something else, I think," says Katniss, taking a seat next to Gale and chewing a mint leaf. _

_ "How?" I ask. I always thought of my name being the flower, or the bush. Nothing else. _

_ "Well," Katniss starts, settling herself among the long grass. "A briar is a thorny bush, right?" I nod. "Thorny bushes are strong. And a rose symbolizes beauty. So, in a way, your name can mean 'strong beauty' or 'strength's beauty' or something like that." _

_ I had never thought of my name that way before. Katniss can be really smart sometimes, when she wants to be. Suddenly, I'm even more proud of my name. "Katniss, I can't believe you thought of that!" I exclaim, hugging her. _

_ "It's true, though, isn't it?" she says, struggling to keep her balance. _

_ "You have some special name, Rosy," Gale says, hugging us as well. _

_ "So do you," I say. "Your name is a wind. So...we're a group of three best friends. We have the wind," I motion towards Gale. "the roots," I point toward Katniss. "and the rose." The wind, the root, and the rose. I like it. It's catchy. _

_ "The wind, the root, and the rose," Gale echoes my thoughts. "Nice." _

_ "Does 'Peeta' have a definition?" Katniss asks me, slyly smiling. _

_ "I don't know," I say, rolling my eyes at her. "You should ask him." _

_ "Why don't you? You're the one who spends the most time with him," Gale reminds me. _

_ "There's no need to ask him," says Katniss. "I already know what Briar thinks it means." _

_ "Well, then tell me. Because I have no idea what you're talking about," I say, trying to dodge the question. _

_ "You probably think it means stuff like perfect, handsome, sweet, cute, perfect, perfect.. Do I need to go on?" Katniss has that teasing little grin on her face. Gale stares at me, smiling like her. _

_ "Nobody's perfect," I remind her. _

_ "Nobody but Peeta," says Katniss. "Well...to you, anyway." _

The wind, the root, and the rose. I loved that day. Not because we were discussing Peeta, but because it was just a really beautiful day. The sky was the perfect shade of blue, there were whispy clouds all around, the trees' leaves matched my eyes exactly like they were supposed to, the flowers were just beginning to bloom. I silently wish for that day to be here again. I close my eyes. I imagine being back in the forest, not in the arena, but outside District 12. I reopen them. No such place. I'm still in the arena. And I still need to look for the leaves for Peeta's leg.

I shake my head to clear it and leave the willow tree. I walk toward the sun for about another ten minutes, and then I see it. An entire bush of the long leaves that I need. Jagged edges, ruby colored veins. This is it. I pick a few of the leaves and head back to the cave.

When I get to the cave, I see Peeta asleep, which isn't a smart thing to be doing. Especially when you're injured and alone. I sigh and shake my head. Hopeless. I go into the cave and shake Peeta's shoulder. I feel him start, but he doesn't open his eyes. I know he's awake now. But seeing as he's being completely stubborn and won't respond to my shaking, I kiss him awake again.

"Briar," he says sleepily, like he's just woke up when I kissed him. "You're back."

"Yes, and I got you the leaves," I say, holding them up.

"Oh, good. I guess." Peeta doesn't know what these are. He only knows that they'll help. And he only knows this because I told him so.

I lay the leaves on the cave ground and take out one of my knives. I cut the tops of the leaves, being sure to severe the veins. The juices from the veins start dripping out onto the ground. I hold them over the bigger of the two gashes on Peeta's leg and let the fluid drip into it. Peeta winces at first, them sighs at the relief it brings him. After I get a sufficient amount of juices into the cuts, I wrap the leaves around his leg and secure it using the bandages Haymitch sent as an outer shell of sorts.

"That feels a lot better," says Peeta. "I mean it this time."

"Birch taught me how to use them right," I tell him.

"Do you miss him?" Peeta asks.

"Yes. A lot," I admit. "Do you miss your father and brothers and mother?"

"Everyone but my mother," he says.

"I figured," I say with a laugh. "Do you need anything?"

"No," says Peeta. "Thanks. Wait, yes. Tell me a story."

A story? I don't have any interesting stories. "About what?" I ask.

"Anything. Just, a random thing that happened one day."

"Um...okay." I search my memories for a story. I decide telling him one about Gale and I wouldn't be the best thing, since cameras are probably trained on us and we're supposed to be playing "star-crossed lovers". So I pick another story. "Did I ever tell you about how Katniss and Gale and I found the Lake?" Peeta shakes his head, so I go on.

_Katniss and I are at the small pond we found when we were twelve. She and I chase lightning bugs, talk, and play with the water lillies that sit ontop of the water. Gale is there with us. It's his first time to the pond, because Katniss and I kept it a secret for a while. I begin to follow a lightning bug all the way around the pond. Suddenly, it stops and lands on a rock. A big one. I look to the left and see a little crevice, big enough for me to crawl through. _

_ "Katniss! Gale!" I shout. "Come here!" _

_ The come running toward me, like best friends do when the other calls. "What is it?" asks Gale. He sounds panicked._

_ "Look," I say, pointing to the crevice in the rock. I bend down to look in it, to see if I can tel if it leads anywhere. _

_ "What is it?" Katniss asks, scraching her head. _

_ I laugh. "What's it look like?" I ask. _

_ "Just another hole in a rock," she says, shrugging. _

_ "Maybe, but where do you think it leads?" I say. I get on my hands and knees and start to go inside. _

_ Gale grabs my leg. "Where are you going?" he asks, trying to keep a grip on my leg as I shake it free._

_ "Wherever this hole takes me," I tell him simply. _

_ "I don't know if that's a good idea..." says Gale, eyeing the hole suspiciously. _

_ "Well, I never said you had to follow me," I remind him. _

_ "Of course we're going to follow you," says Katniss, shaking her head at Gale. She gives him a shove toward the hole. _

_ I nod and start crawling through the hole again. It's cold. Not as cold as winter, but cold like a summer night. The hole turns out to be a tunnel, getting wider as we go in farther. It's good that it does, because I could hear Gale grunting as his shoulders brushed against the sides. Then I see a light at the end. A light at the end of the tunnel. I crawl faster, breathing in the fresh night air. I reach the end, and stick my head out of the tunnel. I gasp. _

_ "What is it?" Gale asks, pushing me forward so he can get out. _

_ I stand up and look around. "It's a lake," I say excitedly. Gale stands beside me, followed by Katniss. We all just stare out into the water. We're on a cliff, I realize. A high cliff. I sigh. I never thought something like this could exist anywhere near District 12. The scenery is beautiful, the dark blue water, the landscape of cliffs and rocks. _

_ "I never knew anything like this..." sighs Gale. _

_ "Could exist here." I finish his sentence. _

_ "I can't believe this," breathes Katniss. "It's beautiful." _

_ "And it's all ours," I say, smiling._

_ For hours, we sit there. Teetering on the edge of the cliff. We pick up rocks and throw them into the water, we breathe in the fresh, cool air. It's so nice there. Everything else just vanishes. After seeing this sight, District 12 is going to look crummier than ever. _

"I guess you miss that," says Peeta. I almost forgot he was there. "The Lake, I mean. And having those sort of moments with Gale and Katniss."

"I do," I admit. Then I decide to really play up the whole "star-crossed lover" thing. "I like having these sort of moments with you."

Peeta smiles and I smile back. I can almost hear the audiences _awws _and can practically see the sponsors lining up.He leans over and kisses my cheek. I sit beside him and put my head on his shoulder and my hand on his chest. "Peeta?" I say, trying to use that special tone I hear come out of Madge's mouth when she sees Birch.

"Hmm?" he says, looking down at me.

"Now you tell me something," I say.

"Okay, like what?" asks Peeta, adjusting his position next to me. 

"You said you had a crush on me forever," I say being as chipper as possible. "When exactly did forever start?" I trace a heart shape on his chest with the tip of my finger.

"Oh, let's see..." says Peeta, tilting his head. "I guess the first day we met."

"Three days before school started." I remember that day. Not every detail, but I remember it.

"Yeah. You were wearing a green dress that matched your eyes perfectly. Your hair was in a ponytail to the right side of your head and you were tying a yellow ribbon around it. Birch was standing beside you, trying to help you, but you shoved his hands away and told him he was only messing you up."

I laugh a little. At the memory of me shooing Birch away, and at the thought that Peeta remembers that exact day perfectly. "You were standing right outside the bakery, which was were I was headed. After you finally got your ribbon tied, you brushed off your dress and looked up at me. I hadn't ever really gotten a good look at your eyes until then, and I realized just how green they were.I don't think you knew whether to wave at me, or smile, or come over to me. So you just blinked at me a few times, almost like you were fluttering your eyelashed at me."

Peeta saying this, of course, obligates me to flutter my eyelashes at him, which makes him smile even more. "Then I had to go inside the bakery, which, of course, you were standing in front of. Birch leaned down to you and whispered something. I think he asked you who I was, because you shrugged and said you didn't know."

That's exactly what Birch asked. He asked me who Peeta was, and I said "_I don't know, but he's kind of cute."_ And that was the very sentence that set Birch off into his obsession of trying to get me to confess my love for Peeta.

"I walked up to the bakery door. You and Birch stepped aside for me. You waved as I passed, and I waved back. I went in and looked out the window at you. Birch was talking to you again. Probably telling you to come inside the bakery. You nodded and walked inside. When you saw me, you smiled. My dad immediately came over to you and handed you a freshly baked cookie. You giggled and thanked him. That's when I knew that I at least wanted to be around you more." Peeta sighs at the memory and leans his head against the cave wall. I smile, now remembering that day as clear as if it was yesterday.

"Then I somehow got the courage to talk to you," Peeta continues. "All I said was hi. But that's all I needed, because you were the one who started introducing yourself and telling me about how nice the bakery feels and smells."

"I remember..." I breathe. I remember perfectly now.

_Birch and I stand outside of the bakery, waiting for the baker to come out with his tray of fresh bread. Birch always wants first pick. I tie the yellow ribbon around the base of my ponytail, my fingers fumbling along the mateial. _

_ "Here," Birch says, sticking his hands in the way. "Let me help." _

_ I quickly shove his hands away. "Stop it! You're making it even worse," I say, frustrated. _

_ When I finally get my ribbon tied in a neat bow, I brush my green dress off and fluff it out. Then I look up and see a boy staring at me. He looks about five or six, same as me. He has dirty blonde hair and brown eyes. I don't know who he is. I've only seen him maybe once or twice in the window of the bakery, but we've never said anything to each other. I only knew that he was the baker's son. I blinked at him a few times. This makes him grin a little. I don't know why._

_ "Who's that?" Birch whispers in my ear. _

_ I shrug. "I don't know his name, exactly, but he's kind of cute," I say with a smile. _

_ The boy starts walking toward us. Birch tugs on my shoulder, telling me to move. I step back and let the boy go in. As he passes, I smile at him and he smiles back. I tip my head to one side as he goes through the door and it closes behind him. _

_ "Go in and talk to him," Birch says, pushing me toward the door. _

_ "But-" I begin to protest. Birch pushes me even harder. _

_ "Go," he insists. _

_ I go up the stairs leading to the door and open it. The smell of fresh bread and pastries fills my nose, and I smile. I look across the counter to the baker and wave. He waves back. It's funny how I seem to know the baker pretty well, but I don't know any of his sons._

_ I look to my left and see the little blonde boy, staring at me, like he was before. I walk toward him, trying to be as casual as possible. Surverying the cakes, looking up at the smoke coming from the oven and up the chimney. I feel someone tap my shoulder. It's the baker. He hands me a fresh cookie, still warm. I giggle and thank him. He pats my head and goes back to his oven. _

_ I turn back to the boy. He's closer now. Close enough to talk to. I take a breath, about to start a conversation about the cakes, but before I can, the boy speaks instead. _

_ "Hi," he says shyly. _

_ "Hi," I say back. "I'm Briarrose. What's your name?" I take a bite of my cookie. _

_ "Peeta Mellark," the boy says, a little louder this time. _

_ "That's a handsome name," I tell him. I look over at him and I notice how good-looking he really is. _

_ "You're name is really pretty, too," Peeta says. "Like your eyes." I bat my eyelashes at him again, which gets him laughing and blushing some more. I like him. I think we're going to be spending a lot of time together... _

"Then, when school, started, we started talking more," says Peeta. I look up at him. He smiles again. "You and I, we'd wander the halls together. I remember once, you convinced me to skip school with you."

"I remember that, too. You took a lot of convincing," I tell him jokingly.

"Even at the small age of six, you were skipping school," he says with a laugh.

"No, I started out only skipping classes. Then I graduated to skipping full days," I tell him. "You wouldn't believe the things Gale and I got into when we skipped." I slap my hand over my mouth. _Shit..._I think. I shouldn't have mentioned Gale. The audience now knows that I have another guy in my life... That kind of takes away from the idea and Peeta and I are madly in love. It's funny, though. I'm the one who's really in love with Peeta, but I'm the one that keeps messing things up.

"The first day of school, in music, assembly. Remember? The teacher asked who knew the Valley Song. Everyone stayed silent." Peeta pretends not to hear my comment about Gale. "But then you raised your hand. The teacher asked you to sing it. You did, and I swear, every bird outside the window fell silent."

"Oh, please," I say, laughing.

"No, it happened. And right when your song ended, you giggled, batted you eyelashes for everyone, and sat back down. Right then, I knew that I was a goner," Peeta says. He hugs me closer to him.

"You have...a remarkable memory," I say honestly. I remember those days, too, but not like Peeta does. Peeta could rememer how many specks of dirt were on the floor if he wanted to.

"I remember everything about you," Peeta says, brushing my hair away from my face. "You just weren't paying attention."

"I am now," I remind him.

"Only because there's no competition here," he says. I don't get what he means by this...competition? Over me? Honestly, I never noticed any of the other boys. Just Peeta.

"What do you mean?" I ask him.

"You don't notice?" he says, surprised. I shake my head and shrug. "I think everyone else can notice that you're the only thing that's on a lot of other people's minds."

"You mean, like...they like me, too?" I say.

"Yes," says Peeta. "But this time, there's no one to compete with."

"There was no one to compete with any time," I say. I can almost hear Haymitch saying, "_That's it, sweetheart!". _Peeta leans in and kisses me lightly.

Just then, we hear a metal clang against the rocks outside. I stick my head out of the cave and see another silver parachute. I reach for and bring it inside. It's hot and steamy and when I open the lid, there's fresh lamb stew inside.

"I guess Haymitch got tired of watching us starve," says Peeta.

"I guess so," I answer. 

We immediately dig in to the stew; they even sent us little forks and plates. We eat in silence, which is nice, considering the long conversation we just had. After I finish the stew on my plate, I throw it out the cave entrance, and watch it shatter into a million pieces. I turn my head and see Peeta staring at me.

"Do you always do that to your dishes?" he says.

"Just when I need a stress reliever," I say back.

"What was that you were saying before the food came?" Peeta asks. "Something about me...no competition...best thing that ever happened to you..."

"I don't remember that last part," I tell him, hoping the cameras won't pick up my blush.

"Oh, right. That's what _I _was thinking," he says. He smiles at me. "Scoot over. I'm freezing."

I realize that the sleeping bag is over my legs, and I scoot over. Peeta curls up next to me and wraps his arms around me. I lean my head on his chest. I can feel Haymitch watching me and saying, "_Keep it up, sweetheart." _

"So, since the first day we met, you've never noticed any other girls?" I ask him.

"I noticed the others, but none of them stayed around like you did," he says. "I mean, they didn't spend as much time around me as you did. They didn't get to know me as well as you did."

I close my eyes for a moment. I don't know how long I can keep doing this. Keep playing this...game that we have. I have no clue how long it's going to be before I run out of ideas for it. I hear Peeta yawn and in an instant, he's asleep. How long can he keep this up? He isn't the one who's actually in love. It must be harder for him than it is for me.

I slowly open my eyes and see the sun just beginning to rise above the trees. I estimate it's about eleven. I look up at Peeta. He's still sleeping. I'm hesitant to wake him, though. He looks so peaceful with the sun hitting his face like that. Finally, I shake him awake. He opens his eyes sleepily, and when he sees me, they immediately light up and he pulls me in for a long "good morning" kiss.

I reach down and pull up Peeta's pant leg to look at the gashes. I reluctantly peel away the bandages and the leaves, unwilling to see what the cuts look like now. When the last leaf is removed, I'm shocked. The cuts are gone. Completely gone. The leaves worked perfectly. I can't believe I actually applied them properly... I hear Peeta whoop. He looks at me and grins.

"Nice job, Doctor Antigone," he says happily. Then he pulls me over for another kiss.

"You'll have to thank Birch for that one," I tell him.

"No," says Peeta, shaking his head. "This one was all you."

We kiss again, and again, and again. I can see Haymitch now, jumping up and down and taking swigs at his bottle and screaming like a little girl. _Yes! Exactly what I was looking for, sweetheart! _I can hear his voice in my head. I can also see Katniss in District 12, _aww_ing at us. I can see Prim beside her, having a heart attack out of happiness for us. _Sorry to disappoint you, Prim, _I think, _but this is just an act. _Then, something else comes to mind. I see Gale. At home. In bed. Watching Peeta and with...pain in his eyes. Almost like jealousy...

I shake the thought from my mind. I kiss Peeta one last time and say, "We're wasting hunting time."

"Oh, I wouldn't call it 'wasting'," says Peeta, stretching his arms. He sits up. "You know, we still have some of that lamb stuff left."

I reach for the pot. Sure enough, there's almost half a container left of the stew. I smile, then remember that I smashed my plate yesterday. I pick up the fork I didn't destroy and take a bit of the stew. Then I hand the pot to Peeta. He looks at me, confused as to why I didn't just take some on my plate. "I broke my plate yesterday, remember?" I remind him.

"Oh, yeah," says Peeta. Then he takes his fork and takes a bit of stew. I laugh.

"I can just feel Effie shuddering at our manners," I say, as I take another fork full of stew. Even though she's a pain to be around, I do miss her.

"Me, too," Peeta laughs. Then he blows a kiss in Effie's general direction and says, "We miss you, Effie!"

I laugh, then slap my hand over his mouth. "Stop it!" I say. "Cato could be right outside this cave."

He pulls me hand away and puts it to his chest. "What do I care? I've got you to protect me now," says Peeta, pulling me to him. He leans down and kisses me again.

"Come on," I say, pulling away from him, but not before his kisses me again on the cheek.

Peeta's surprisingly able to get to his feet quicker then I expected. He grabs my hand as I'm shoving my knives into my belt and twirls me around, then grips me tight in his arms. I grip him back, suddenly realizing just how muscular and well-built he is. I wriggle away from him and pack the rest of my arrows. Peeta is a lot better at playing the part than I am.

As soon as we step outside of the cave, our moods change to serious. We were given a holiday of sorts when we were in the cave, but now, we're back in the Games. The sun is shining and there's a cool breeze blowing on our faces. Still, that doesn't take away from the severity of the position we're in. I hand Peeta one of the bigger knives I have strapped to my belt, given that whatever weapons he once had are gone. I count my arrows. Seven. Seven left out of twelve. I try to recall what I had used them on, but can't. I shrug. It doesn't matter now.

"If we want food, we'll have to travel up and out of this valley," I say, pointing to the incline in front of us.

"Just tell me what to you need me to do," Peeta shrugs.

"Keep your eyes open for Cato or Clove or anyone else," I say. "And try not to rustle too many bushes."

"Yes, ma'am."

I'd walk in the water to cover any tracks, but I'm not sure Peeta's leg could take the current. The gashes on his leg are gone, but he's still a little weak. Soon, the boulders diminish into pebbles, and then we're back out of the valley and under the cover of the pine trees. I load my bow and quiet my footsteps. Considering that Peeta is still injured in some places, he's doing a better job at being quiet than I thought he would.

After a while, I stop and turn to Peeta.

"We should split up." He echoes my thoughts. "Just...show me what I can do."

I glance around and notice something useful Peeta could do. I guide him over to a large bush, containing all sorts of berries and leaves. I recognize the bush instantly. It's one of the Capitol's muttations, a variety bush. They made them during the Dark Days so they wouldn't have to scavenge through an entire area to find food. The varitey bushes provide almost all of the berries and nuts and leaves that I can think of. I sit Peeta down and motion toward the bush.

"Here," I say. "Pick some of those, and those, and those." I point to all the different kinds of edible things.

"Okay," answers Peeta. "Where are you going to be?"

I stand up and look around. "Not too far," I reply. "I'll be back. If Cato or Clove or anyone comes...well, just...call for me." Then I pick up my bow and arrows and walk away in the opposite direction of Peeta.

I walk to where the pine trees thin out, and where the sunlight is streaking down to the forest floor. I think. How many tributes are left? There were five left before I found Peeta. Rue is dead...and so is Marvel. That's two gone. And when Peeta and I were in the cave, Thresh's cannon sounded and we saw his picture in the sky that night. Then the next day, we saw the girl from District 5 in the sky. That means...it's just Peeta, me...and Cato and Clove. _Oh, no, _I think. The odds aren't in anyone's favor right now.

After about ten minutes of walking, I see a flicker of light just ahead of me. At first, I think it's a parachute. But it's not. It's the Cornucopia. I slow my pace, and keep my eyes and ears open for any signs of Clove or Cato. They'll be fighting harder than ever now. And the Cornucopia is the first place that they would go if they needed to hide.

I cautiously step out of the trees into the sun. I see the Cornucopia, right in front of me, not fifty yards away. I start toward it. Maybe there's food there. Or more medicine to help Peeta. Not a minute passes before I'm completely swept off my feet and pushed to the ground. My bow and arrows land clumsily beside me, just out of my reach. I scramble over to them and quickly load an arrow. Then I see her. Clove, running toward me with a knife in hand. I fire, aiming, not for her heart, but for her leg. I told Cato I wouldn't kill him. How can I kill Clove without killing him as well? Even if he's not going to keep his promise, I refuse to die a liar.

The arrows hits, catching her right leg just above the knee. This slows her down for a few moments, taking the arrow out, taking in the severity of the wound I caused. I load another arrow and, this time, aim it at her arms. She's faster than me, though, and hurls a knife right at my head. I manage to twist my back in such a way that the knife glides right in front of my eyes, only catching me on my forehead. Barely.

I load yet another arrow, but even as my hand lets go, I know it will miss. Because Clove is hurling knives at me in a sort of frenzy. Then she's ontop of me, pinning me to the ground. I want to scream at Clove, ask her what her problem is, or if Cato told her what I did for her. I hope, for the sake of everyone at home, that this will be quick. But I know, whether I saved Cato's life or not, she means to savor this moment. Cato is probably standing not too far away, watching this. _Traitor..._

"Where's your boyfriend, Twelve?" Clove sneers. "He still hanging on?"

"He's out there now," I hiss back at her. "Not too far off. Probably waiting to spring at you." Then I take in a deep breath and scream at the top of my lungs. "Peeta!" I know he's too far to hear me, though.

Clove slams her hand on my mouth. Then she looks around hurriedly. Realizing that Peeta isn't coming any time soon, she relaxes and turns back to me. "Liar," she growls. "He's proably dead. Cato knows where he stabbed him."

I figure, as long as we're discussing Cato, I should drop a real bomb on her. "Oh, you really believe that?" I say. "Then how come you were doubting Cato, right before I led you into those mines?"

This shuts her up, but only for a second. "You were the one that shot him in the leg, weren't you?" she whispers maniacally.

"I did," I say casually, as if it was nothing. "I could've killed him. If I wanted to. I could've also killed him when he followed you into that mine field."

Clove's eyebrows raise. She's taken aback by this. "What?"

"Oh, you don't remember?" My voice seems to be mocking her now. "You got knocked out from those mines. Cato came to take you back to your camp. He started crying because he thought you were dead." Clove's eyes start to widen even more. Cato didn't tell her anything after all. "I was going to leave you both there. Maybe I was even going to kill you both. But I didn't. I went back, told Cato you weren't dead, gave him medicine for his leg, then I left."

Clove slashes her knife sideways, cutting my cheek. But I continue on. "I could have killed you both, on the spot that day. But I didn't. I let you both live. You owe me, Clove!" I'm starting to shout at her now. For a second, I think I see wonder and curiosity in Clove's eyes. I struggle under her weight. She snaps back to her original, sadistic self.

"Forget it, Twelve," she says. "We're going to kill you. Just like we killed your little shadow. What was her name...Rue?" Then Clove looks at me, surveying my face. She tilts her head from side to side. I can tell she's relishing my helplessness right now. And I can't believe Cato is letting her do this... "Slowly. That's how I'm going to do this. Now, where to start..." She presses the blade of her knife to her lip and tilts her head again. "I think..." She lowers the knife to my lips. "I think we'll start with your mouth."

I glare at Clove. She smiles, laughing at me. I glare at her even more, letting my green gaze burn into hers. All of a sudden, Clove looks almost scared of my eyes, like they're cursing her as she sits there and delays killing me. She looks away. But I still hold my gaze. Frustrated, she hisses, "All right, let's get to it."

I refuse to let my gaze rest on anything else besides Clove's eyes. I intend to stare her down, for as long as I can. I won't close my eyes. I will keep frightening her with my green eyes, until I can no longer see. I brace myself for the agony sure to come when Clove begins to push the tip of her blade into my lip.

Out of no where, I see a flash of blonde hair. Then I see Clove being shoved mercilessly off me and into the Cornucopia. She hits her head so hard that her body immediately goes limp and I no longer see the rise and fall of her sides. I sit up quickly, unable to comprehend what just happened. Did Cato suddenly have a change of heart and decide to help me? Did he finally remember the promise we made each other? I look up and see neither of those theories are apparently true. I see Peeta towering over me. He pulls me to my feet and embraces me tightly.

"Are you okay?" he asks, looking at the cuts on my forehead and on my lip.

"Yes, I'm fine," I say, pushing his hands off me. I kiss him lightly, then I walk slowly over to Clove. Cautiously, because, for some reason, I'm afraid she's going to spring up and kill me. As I near her, I know she's dead. I kneel down beside her and roll her onto her back. Her eyes stare sightlessly into the sky and her mouth is still open in the last snarl she ever uttered. I sigh. I can't help feeling terrible. She and Cato could've gone home together. She might have even had her heart set on that. But now, she couldn't. And now, either Peeta and I have to kill Cato, or he'll have to kill both of us. This isn't going to work out either way.

I put my hand on Clove's cheek, feeling the warmth draining from her body. And, somewhere, I think I can hear Cato mourning for her. Unexpectedly, a tear drops down from my face. I turn my head to Peeta. He's far behind me, looking at me like he thinks I'm insane for mourning Clove. She tried to kill me, after all. Still, I brush her hair away from her face, kiss her on her forehead, and gently close her eyes. Then I position her arms in front of her body like I did with Rue, and I stand looks peaceful now, like she could be sleeping. That was the least I could do for Cato.

"We'd better get out of here," I tell Peeta. His eyes are still wide at the shock of what I've just done. I reach up and kiss him again.

"Yeah," he agrees, taking my hand. "Before Cato comes."

Peeta thinks we should leave before Cato comes to kill us. But what I mean is that we should leave so Cato has time to mourn Clove before the hovercraft comes and takes her. I know he's not far away. He was probably watching my every move, just as shocked as Peeta. We turn toward the trees, and run. Before the Cornucopia is completely out of sight, I look back. And sure enough, Cato is there next to Clove, pressing her hand to his cheek and softly sobbing. Clove's cannon fires. I put my three fingers to my lips, and raise them toward Cato. Then I plunge into the trees with Peeta.

"Are you okay?" Peeta asks again. "Where did she cut you?"

"Just here," I say, putting my hand to my forehead. "And here." I put my finger to my lip.

Peeta kisses my forehead gently. Then he smiles and kisses my lip, right where I got cut. "Better?" he says.

"Lots," I answer, laughing myself.

"Back to hunting?" asks Peeta.

"Back to hunting," I repeat, almost reluctantly. "Do you remember where that bush was?"

Peeta shakes his head. "No. But maybe..." He points to a stream, smaller than the one in the valley. It's so miniature, it's almost cute. "Maybe I could find some things there?"

"Okay," I say, turning to walk farther into the woods. Peeta grabs my hand before I can.

"Don't go too far this time," he tells me, locking his gaze on mine.

"I won't," I reply, pulling my hand from his and walking into the trees.

I walk for maybe two minutes before I come across two rabbits. I shoot them both and lay them in my backpack. Not long after, I see a fat squirell. I shoot that one also, and then decide I should go back to Peeta before he comes looking for me.

And the thought wanders into my head again. Peeta is only playing a part, isn't he? Nothing he's said or done is real. It's an act. Saving me from Clove, that was real. He really didn't want me to die. But that's because we're best friends. Nothing more. To him, anyway.

The loud boom of the cannon sounds all around me. _Wait...what? _My mind swirls, unable to take in the sound. At first, I dare to think that it was Cato's cannon that fired, but then I realize, what if that was Peeta's cannon? My breathing quickens, my heart beats faster, and I find myself racing through the trees, trying to catch any sight of Peeta. Then, my worst nightmare comes true.

"Our debt is settled, Fire Girl!" I frantically turn my head to pinpoint the sound. But it's not coming from anywhere in particular. It's echoing through the trees. And it's Cato's voice. What does he mean? _Our debt is settled..._ What debt? The debt he owed to me for saving his life? No, he means the debt I was in for technically killing Clove. And then the realization hits me. Cato killed Peeta. To get back at me for killing Clove...

I want to scream my head off. At Cato. At everything. I want to break down and cry. But no tears come, and neither does any anger. Maybe it's because I feel like I deserve it... My legs start moving, in a frantic sprint to the stream where I left Peeta. I want to see him, even is he is covered in blood. I want to see him, one last time.

I reach the stream sooner than expected, and I slow my pace to a surprisingly calm walk. I look around for Peeta. His body, that is. I didn't see the hovercraft, so maybe it didn't come for him yet. I keep looking, under bushes, and for some reason, through the leaves in the trees. Then I see him. Blonde hair, brown eyes, stocky build. Peeta. But...he's not dead. He's moving. And he's calling my name.

I run to him. When he sees me, his eyes light up brighter than I've ever seen them. He looks like he's about to cry, too. I raise my eyebrows. How can he be alive? Cato is alive, so how can Peeta be alive as well? Then I see berries in his hand. Not any berries I've ever seen. Wait. No, I've seen these before. They only grow in the wild. They aren't sold in the market...because they're nightlock.

I take a leap toward Peeta and push the berries out of his hand. "What are you doing?" I demand.

He looks as confused as ever. "What? What do you mean?" he asks, surprised.

"That was nightlock, Peeta!" I cry. "You'd be dead in a minute!"

"I'm sorry. I-I didn't know," he stammers.

"You scared me to death!" I say, on the verge of crying. Then I throw my arms around his neck and hug him as tightly as I can, never wanting to let him go for anything. He hugs me back, and puts his head on my shoulder. I kiss him. I don't care if he's acting now or not, I needed that.

I quickly wipe my eyes. Peeta kisses me again and looks at me with cursious brown eyes. "I heard a cannon," I say quietly. "I thought it was yours." I don't mention hearing Cato.

"It wasn't," says Peeta. "I'm here." He gently kisses my cheek.

"We should start a fire..." I say, changing the subject. "I think it's about time we ended this with Cato."

"Are you ready to face him?" asks Peeta.

"If Cato knows we're here, he knows," I say simply. "There's nothing we can do now. And besides, I'm hungry." I take out the two rabbits and the squirell. Pretty soon, we've got them cooked. I stuff most of it into my backpack for later and leave us both a rabbit leg to eat as we walk. I want to move up higher, into a tree. But I know Peeta wouldn'y be able to make it up there. And he says he wouldn't be able to sleep fifty feet above the ground, anyway.

"It's not exactly safe to stay out in the open," I tell him.

"Then let's go back to the cave," says Peeta.

I sigh. Another few hours of walking. Right now, all I want to do is curl up on a nice tree limb and fall asleep. I'm about to protest, when I realize Peeta's had a trying day. Seeing me almost be killed by Clove, killing her himself, me yelling at him for almost eating the nightlock. And he doesn't ask for much. He's followed my instructions, and he even saved my life. The audience probably loved that show. And Haymitch is probably ready to kill me...

I reach up and kiss Peeta. "Sure," I say, nailing the tone that Madge uses on Birch perfectly. "Let's go back to the cave."

Peeta shrugs. "That was easy," he says.

When we finally get back to the cave, it's dark. Very dark. I estimate it's probably around ten. The wind has begun to pick up, and I'm happier than ever to get back inside the cave and out of the chill. Peeta begins to nod off almost immediately. I order him into the sleeping bag. He's asleep as soon as he settles in. I kiss his forehead and move to the entrance of the cave. I sit there for hours, because I know sleep won't be coming anytime soon. I stare at the moon, full and shining bright. I wish it was the real moon, the one that Gale and I see a lot when we're out in the forest and Katniss is home with Prim. I don't know why, but I like those nights outside with Gale. We prefer the chill of the night rather than the warmth of the fireplace.

This whole scene reminds me of District 12. The moon, the wind, the trees around me. I breathe in the cold night air, letting it fill my lungs to the point that it burns. I wonder what Gale is doing. And I wonder what Katniss is doing, and Prim, and Birch. And then I wonder, how long have I been gone? I guess about two weeks and three days. Plus the two weeks we spent in the Capitol.

It must be nice back in District 12. I wish so badly that I could be back there, safe, in the woods with Gale. Instead of being here in the arena, being hunted by Cato...

Brutal, murderous Cato who could snap a neck with a twist of his arm. Cato, who told me he wouldn't kill me if we saw each other again. When I heard the cannon, why did he call out to me? I think on this for a long time, then come up with a solution. If I heard the cannon, and Cato was as close as he sounded, he must've heard it too. The cannon was probably set off by the Gamemakers to scare me and send me into insanity. Cato called out to scare me even more. No one really died, it was all a joke performed by the Gamemakers.

Then what Cato said fully sinks in. "_Our debt is settled." _He said he wouldn't kill me. He said absolutely nothing about not killing Peeta. This sparks fear inside me. Peeta is vulnerable to Cato now. Not that he wasn't always, but now, he is even more than ever. Because Cato is going to hunt him down instead of me. Because he's a hunter. Like me. And he hunts who he didn't make promises to.

In reality, though, how can Cato kill Peeta without killing me? Another stalemate. Clove's death solved nothing. If Cato manages to kill Peeta, then what? I can't kill him, and he wouldn't kill me. And we aren't from the same district. But if he doesn't hunt Peeta like I think he will, there's nothing that I can do. Peeta and Cato would, unfortunately, have to fight that one out on their own. I won't kill Cato. I refuse to die a liar. My mind is swirling now, trying to devise a plan if the situation ever presents itself. I shake my head, clearing my thoughts.

I notice the gray of dawn is seeping through the trees. I've let Peeta sleep well beyond our usual switching time. I don't mind, though. Despite the full day of hunting, I'm surprisingly alert. I turn around and see Peeta starting to wake up. He opens his eyes and stares at me in disbelief.

"I slept the whole night, didn't I?" he says. I nod, then turn back to look into the trees. "Briar, sleep now. You should've woken me."

"I didn't see any reason to," I shrug. "Nothing was happening, and...I just wanted to think." I burrow into the sleeping bag next to Peeta and lay my head on his chest. "The night helps me think. Because it's so quiet and peaceful."

"Not all the time," says Peeta. I know he's right.

"Wake me if anything happens, okay?" I say. I relax all my muscles and let myself drift into sleep.

Apparently nothing happens, because when I open my eyes next, I can see sunlight burning through the trees. It's probably late afternoon. I see Peeta's face, staring out the cave, then he turns to me and smiles.

I raise my eyebrows, asking him is there was any sign of Cato. Peeta shakes his head and says, "No. He's keeping a low profile."

I sit up and stretch. Peeta kisses me on my cheek. "Don't you think the Gamemakers are getting bored by now?" I ask, affectionately pushing him away.

"Probably," he says, wrapping his arms around me. "It's only a matter of time before they drive us together."

"I wonder how they'll do it," I say quietly. Silence. There's no good answer to that.

"I don't know," Peeta finally says after a ong period of silence. "But I have a feeling it's going to be today."

"Well," I get to my feet. "Then we should hunt."

I pack up the backpack, hand Peeta all of my throwing knives, and lightly sharpen my arrows with a rock. We eat a lot, the rest of the rabbits and some berries.

When we step out of the cave, the air is different. There's a sense of finality to it. Knowing that today may very well be our last day in the arena. Then I tense. Our last day in the arena. We might die, or we might live. But on way or another, dead or alive, we're leaving the arena.

We walk for I don't know how long. It seems like hours. We stop only once to examine a dry riverbed. The entire ground is more dry and cracked than I've ever seen it. I kneel down and feel the ground. This is the third place that I've seen entirely dried up. Then I realize, the Gamemakers.

"They're trying to push us to the lake," I say with a frown. "That's where they want to end this." I look up in the sky. The sun is dipping behind the trees already and a sense of dread washes over me. "And they want to do it in the dark."

Peeta frowns back at me. "Two against one," he says. "It should be easy."

I shake my head at him. I look up again and see a mockingjay perched on one of the lower branches. It tilts its head at me, like it's waiting for a song to memorize. I smile and sing a little song that Gale and I used to sing when we were younger. I sing the chorus, and all around me, the mockingjays appear from the trees and carry the song on. It's beautiful, they're singing, and I close my eyes and let the song take me back to District 12.

_"Do you think we missed anything today?" I ask Gale as we roam through the trees, soaking in the moonlight. We didn't go to school today again. It's not a big deal to us. _

_ "Probably not," shrugs Gale. "Nothing is really important there." I laugh, because in a way, it's true. _

_ Gale and I scale trees, race after one another, and throw stones at anything that moves. We're fourteen, and we're loving every minute of it. This is the age where you're just becoming of age in District 12. _

_ "Hey," Gale nudges me on my shoulder. "Wanna hear something cool?" _

_ "Sure," I say. _

_ Gale sings a beautiful song, about someone dying and asking their lover to forget all the times they've hurt them. It's really deep, and when Gale finishes, I hear the song being echoed through the trees. It's almost eerie, how perfect the song sounds now. From then on, I know that song is going to be something special to both of us._

My eyes flash open when I hear the warning shriek coming from the mockingjay's mouth. My heart starts racing and my mind swirls. I'm instantly alert, and I see Peeta with his knife in hand. Then I see Cato crashing through the trees at full speed. I load my arrow, but I know I'm not really going to shoot well enough to kill him. I'm about to let my arrow fly through his arm, but then I see something else that catches my eye. A huge, dog-like animal is chasing after Cato. Instintively, I let my arrow go, aiming for the animal's throat. But it misses, because Cato grabs my arm and starts pulling me with him.

"What are you doing?" I manage to gasp, trying to free my arm from his grip.

"We need to get out of here," answers Cato, keeping a firm grip on my arm. "Just keep running and don't look back."

"But what about Peeta?" I demand.

"I said I wouldn't kill _you. _I said nothing about Peeta," Cato says. "If he has to fight those mutts alone, whatever."

Mutts. That's what they are. Some more of the Capitol's muttations. "We can't just leave him there!" I shriek.

"We have to!" Cato yells back. "He doesn't deserve to live. He killed Clove..."

Giving one final twist of the arm, I free myself from Cato's grip. He looks at me, like he's waiting for me to follow him. But I can't. Not if Peeta is still back there. I take off in the opposite direction of Cato, tearing through the trees, desperate for any sign of Peeta's safety. I hear Cato call my name, but I don't turn around.

I only run for a few seconds before I collide with Peeta. Before I can even balance myself, I'm being pulled through the forest again. Peeta keeps a firm grip on my hand and I don't try to resist. I see Cato in front of us. He looks like he's making a bee-line to the Cornucopia. He's probably right to do that. And we're probably right to follow him.

My hands have barely landed on the metal of the Cornucopia when I realize that there's more than one mutt. There's twenty-one, exactly. I see Cato scaling the Cornucopia and quickly follow him. Then I remember Peeta. I look down below and see him staring up at me.

"Brair!" he shouts. "Climb! Now!"

I obey and climb up the Cornucopia, with much difficulty. The sun that was shining on the metal all day has made it so hot that it could almost blister my hands, and it's smooth and slippery. I make it to the top, though, and so does Peeta. I look behind my back and see Cato lying on his sid, trying to catch his breath. I go over to him and splash some of the water from my canteen on him. This seems to wake him up a little and helps him catch his breath.

Then I glance over the side of the Cornucopia. Mutts. All around the base of the Cornucopia. They try to jump onto the top, but none of them succeeds. Until one of them takes a running start and manages to leap ontop. I don't have time to react, because the mutt has me pinned to the metal surface. Terror rages through my body. I reach for one of my knives, when I remember I gave them all to Peeta. I lose it. I kick my legs and struggle under the immense weight of the mutt, managing to strike it in the underbelly. It howls in pain and then lundges to deal me a death bite. I close my eyes and brace myself. But it never comes. I reopen my eyes and see the mutt laying on its side, motionless. It has a deep stab wound in its neck and I see Cato, holding his sword covered in blood.

I blink at him in thanks and quickly get to my feet and load an arrow in my bow. I aim it at anything that moves below me and shoot. All the arrows I shoot hit the mutts and kill them, but there's still too many. I have three arrows left. And there are fifteen mutts left. I'm having a fit now, shooting and kicking and lashing out at anything that touches me. Then, in the midst of my fury and fear, I feel Peeta grab my hand. I turn my head to him and see his brown eyes, staring at me, telling me it will be okay.

Then I hear him cry out and I see one of the mutts has managed to grasp Peeta's leg and is tugging him down to the rest of them. His body slips over the side and I'm fighting with all I have left to keep him up with me.

"Kill it, Peeta!" I scream at him. From the awful sound I hear coming from the bottom of the Cornucopia, I can tell than Peeta must have stabbed it. I yank him back to the top of the Cornucopia. I make sure he's stable on the slippery surface and turn back to the mutts. I shoot one straight through the eye and I'm down to two arrows.

I turn back around to Peeta to ask him for my knives, but I don't just see Peeta. I see Cato, holding Peeta in a sort of headlock. Peeta struggles against Cato's strong arms, but he's weak from being attacked by the mutt.

I hear the mutts snarling below us. Cato, still holding Peeta, makes his way to the edge of the Cornucopia, threatening to throw him off. I load my bow with my next to last arrow and aim. I don't have a choice now. I have to kill him. Cato laughs. "Shoot me, and he goes down with me." It's either him or Peeta. I choose Peeta. I'm about to let my arrow fly, when I realize just the sort of situation we're in. If I don't shoot Cato, he'll throw Peeta over the edge. I'll kill him then. But if I do shoot him, he'll fall over the edge, and so will Peeta. This is the worst stalemate we've ever been in.

At last, Cato will have his revenge. He'll kill Peeta because he killed Clove. And I'll kill Cato for killing Peeta.

My fingers shake around my bow and I feel myself begin to tremble. I lock my green gaze on Cato, hoping to scare him like I did Clove.

"Go ahead," says Cato quietly. "Kill me." It's tempting, but I can't. Not without guarunteeing Peeta's death as well.

My breath quickens and my heart feels like it's about to burst out of my chest. "Do it! Now!" Cato yells at me. He positions his hands around Peeta's head, ready to snap his neck. I shake my head slightly. I can't kill him. But I have to. Somehow.

"Briarose," Cato whispers. "Do it." His eyes fill with tears and he starts to shake almost as badly as I am. I see the muscles in his arms tense as he tightens his grip on Peeta's head. I think he starts to sob... "Do it. It'll be okay," he says. "It was always in my blood to die this way. It's what I was trained for. My life is meant to end here. I was meant to die this way."

Cato twists his arm, about to snap Peeta's neck, when I send an arrow soaring through the air and straight into his hand. Impulsively, he let's go of Peeta and examines his hand. The arrow has gone straight through it. Peeta slams back against him and for a second, I think they're both going over. I leap forward and grab hold of Peeta's shirt. I reach for Cato, too, but I fail to get a good grip on him. He staggers at the sight of his hand and falls to the ground where the mutts await him.

I race to the edge of the Cornucopia and peer over the side. Cato is bravely fighting with the mutts, but there is too many of them. He's soon over powered, and I can no longer see any part of him. He's buried under the mass of muttations. I can hear the cries of pain from both human and mutt. I cover my ears and squirm back to the center of the Cornucopia where Peeta embraces me. The sun is just starting to rise.

His leg is badly wounded from the mutt. Its teeth left a gaping hole in the middle of his calf. I reach down to my pants and rip one of the legs off. Then I secure it around Peeta's leg wound. He winces, but doesn't complain. He just keeps holding onto me, and I keep holding onto him, waiting to hear the cannon that signals Cato's death. But it never comes.

I still hear the snarls and growls of the mutts long after he fell over. I can't imagine how he's surviving so long. But then I figure, the Gamemakers wanted a good finale. It's cruel of them, really. Unexpectedly, I feel a tear slide down my cheek. Not for Cato's pain, or Peeta's pain, or for mine. But just for everything. Everything that we've been through in the arena.

After about an hour, I hear the growls of the mutts moving toward what seems to be the mouth of the Cornucopia. _Now they'll finish him off..._ I think. But the cannon still never fires. Night comes and there's no picture of Cato in the sky. I wish there was. I wish he would just die already. He's suffered enough for two lifetimes.

I begin to shake uncontrollably. The wind begins to pick up and the metal that once burned was now cold as ice. Peeta hasn't let go of me once. He keeps his arms around me, caccooning me from the wind. Still, I can feel the chill and the cold and I shudder.

I look up at Peeta. The bags under his eyes look like bruises now. He smiles weakly at me and I do my best to smile back. He kisses my forehead and I burrow down further into his embrace.

"Why don't they just kill him already?" I manage to whisper. No answer. I look up at Peeta again and notice he's starting to drift off. I quickly shake him awake. "Don't go to sleep," I say as gently as possible. If he falls asleep now, in the state he's in, I'm terrified that he'll never wake up.

Peeta keeps starting to drift off, and every time he does, I scream his name and shake him. Because I know if he dies now, after all we've been through, after all we've done for each other, I'll go completely insane.

The next few hours are agonizing. A tear trickles down my cheek every now and then, and the cold is so intense now that even Peeta is shaking. What's really torturous is listening to Cato crying and whimpering as the mutts work away at him. I know there isn't any hope for him. I wish I could help him. I think I know how to. I stand up, and the chill from the wind hits me like a wave. I shudder, but I move to the edge of the Cornucopia.

As I look over the edge, I can see Cato. He's just laying there, merely a mangled corpse left out to freeze the rest of the way to death. He's shivering, but with all the pain he must be in, I doubt he can even feel the cold. He manages to move his gaze to mine. For a minute, I just stare at him, pitying him, wishing there was more I could do for him than this.

After a few moments, I slowly scale my way down the Cornucopia to Cato. I approach him as quietly as possible, not wanting to scare him, even though he clearly knows I'm here. I kneel down next to him. I stare at him for a moment more, and then I dare to take his hand in mine. It's so dry and bloody and mangled that the feeling of it repulses me and urges me to let go. But I won't. I refuse to let go of his hand, because how could I? He's dying...

Cato looks at me. I can see he's been crying. I heard him, and it caused so much grief in me. More tears start to stream from his wounded eyes and I feel my own tears start to come. I scoot closer to him, and gently lay his head vertically on my lap. I pity him. So much. He's crying even harder now, sobbing. Even that must cause him pain.

I plan to end his misery. I'll use my last arrow to shoot him. At this point, it will be an act of mercy. I don't care how many people he's killed, or how savagely he tried to kill Peeta. I've forgiven him for them, just enough to want desperately to end his suffering.

"Cato..." I whisper softly. My voice comes in an angelic tone, almost beautiful. "Thank you. For all you've done for me, and for Peeta." I brush his hair aside from his face and lay my hand on his cheek. "You're going to go home to Clove now, okay? She'll be waiting for you." I lower myself right next to his ear. "You'll always be remembered."

Cato closes his eyes. He's begging me now, begging me to kill him. I put my head down solemnly. I take his head gently in my hands and lay it back down on the grass, which is now stained with his blood. Another tear comes down from my cheek. Before getting to my feet, I lean over and kiss his forehead, bidding him farewell.

I stand up and walk about thirty feet away from him. I load my last arrow and aim. At the last moment, Cato turns his head feebly and mouths _thank you. _Pity, not vengeance, sends my arrow through his skull. Cato's cannon fires, and I climb back up the Cornucopia to Peeta.

"Did you get him?" asks Peeta. I nod numbly. "Then we won, Briar."

I try to speak, but words won't come. My throat feels dry and cracked. I just nod again. Peeta manages to get to his feet and hug me again. Despite the weeks away from District 12, he still carries the comforting scent of freshly baked bread.

When I look up into the sky, it's turning blue and bright, like it's early afternoon. Then I wonder, why hasn't the hovercraft come for Cato yet? Peeta answers my question before I even ask it.

"Maybe we have to move away from him before they take him," he suggests.

"Can you make it down?" I ask.

"Probably," he shrugs.

Inch by inch, we slowly descend down the edge of the Cornucopia. Then, somehow, we make it to the lake. I take an immediate sip of water and give some to Peeta. Finally, the hovercraft comes and takes Cato's battered body. As I watch it lift into the air, tears of relief and sadness and joy fill my eyes. Peeta pulls me close to him and kisses my head.

We wait a little longer for another hovercraft to come and take us back to the Capitol and out of this arena. But it never comes, and my patience ebbs.

"What are they waiting for?" I ask bitterly.

"I don't know," says Peeta. His hand goes down to his leg and I see that the pantleg that I applied to Peeta's leg is fully soaked in blood. I carefull remove it and wash the blood from it. Then I gingerly retie it around his leg.

After I fasten the clothe, I notice something glinting in the sun. I squint my eyes and realize that it's one of my silver arrows, probably one that didn't get stuck in a mutt's throat. Not a second passes after I pick it up when I hear Clausius Templesmith's voice boom overhead.

"Greetings to the final contestants of the 74th Annual Hunger Games," he says. "The earlier revision has been revoked. Closer examination of the rule book states that there can only be one winner. Good luck, and may the odds be ever in your favor."

I take in a sharp breath and turn to Peeta. The words sink in. They never truly intended to let both of us win. It was all a ploy to make the Games more interesting for the audience. Another cruel game to them.

Peeta weakly shrugs. "It's not surprising," he says softly.

He reaches for the knives I gave him. My first impulse is to shoot him with the arrow that I have, but then I see the last glint of the knives as they leave his hand and drop to the ground. I nod and drop my bow and arrow.

"No," he says. "Do it." The very situation I was most terrified of has presented itself.

"No," I say.

"Briar, you have to," Peeta insists.

"No!" I shout. "I won't kill you! I can't believe you're even thinking that I would!" I'm so worked up now, panicking and screaming.

I feel Peeta's hand take mine. He puts it to his chest. "Briarose," he whispers. "I told you I would let you kill me. I never expected the time to actually come, but now it has. And I can't go back on my word. Especially to you." This brings tears to my eyes, yet again.

"Peeta..." I whisper back. "I couldn't ever kill you. Even if my life depended on it..." I stare up into Peeta's brown eyes. "I would never be able to. Because I love you." The words I've wanted to speak to him my whole life have finally come. But, regretfully, I've waited too long.

Peeta just looks at me. His eyes are truly endeared, and his brushes his hand down my cheek. "I love you, too, Briar," he says. "That's why I want you to kill me."

"I can't do that. You know that," I say. "But what you don't know is how much I love you." I can practically hear the audience in a frenzy and see Haymitch screaming at the top of his lungs and Effie clapping for us saying, "_Well played!"_ But the thing is, I'm not playing.

"You're right. I don't know," says Peeta. Then he gives me a teasing smile. "So why don't you show me, right now?"

Without hesitation, I kiss him. I run my fingers through his hair and I can feel his hands hugging me to him. It's like nothing I've ever felt before. I'm hopelessly in love with him.

When we stop kissing, he beams at me. Then he says, "Listen, we both know they have to have a victor. Please, take it. For me." He continues on with how unconditionally in love with me he is, and what life would be like without me, and how much he needs me with him forever. This brings a smile to my face, but actually, I'm tuning him out. I'm thinking of what to do, what we can do. Well, what _I _can do, anyway. I don't want Peeta to do anything.

Then I think, they have to have a victor. One victor. They don't want two. Only one. But...what if both remaining victors died? We'd throw the entire purpose of the Games back in the Capitol's face.

My fingers fumble with the pouch on my belt, freeing it. Peeta sees it and he clamps his hand on my wrist. "No, I won't let you."

"Trust me," I whisper. He holds my gaze for a long moment, then lets go. I loosen the top of the pouch and pour a few berries into his hand. Then I lift my own. "On the count of three?"

Peeta leans down and kisses me, very gently, one last time. "The count of three," he agrees.

We stand, our back against each other, our free hands intertwined.

"Hold them out," he says quietly. "I want everyone to see this."

I raise my hand and show the sky my berries. _You'll be dead in a minute, Briarose. _My father's voice echoes in my head, but I ignore it this time. I know what I want. I give Peeta's hand one last reassuring squeeze. "I love you," I tell him.

"I love you, too," he says back. At this point, I don't care if he's acting or not. I really do love him, and I'm not acting.

"One..." I start counting. The people in the Capitol will be filled with regret. "Two..." But maybe I'm wrong. Maybe they don't care if we die. "Three." It's too late to change my mind now. I'll do anything to stay with Peeta, even kill myself. I tilt my head back and pour the berries into my mouth. I figure I should find something nice to take my last look at. Just before the berries hit my tongue, I find a cloud.

The frantic voice of Claudius Templesmith shouts above us. "Stop! Stop!"

I spit out my berries, wiping my tongue free of the juices. I turn to Peeta. "You didn't swallow any, did y-" I break off because of the awful choking sound my throat utters. Peeta slumps to the ground before I can catch him. _No..._ I drop to the ground with him. His eyes are closed and a thin streak of the nightlock's juice runs out of his mouth.

"Peeta..." I say quietly. "Peeta!" I say it louder this time and I start shaking him, my eyes welling up with tears. "Peeta! Peeta!"

"Briar..." Peeta manages to whisper.

"Peeta, I'm right here. Don't worry. I'll get you fixed." I start searching the ground frantically for, I don't know what, exactly. Maybe my sanity, because it's slipping away from me with every breath I take and with every breath Peeta loses. "Just hold on, Peeta. Please! Just stay with me!" I'm starting to wail now, like a kitten who's lost its mother.

"Briar..." Peeta grabs my hand. "Don't."

"But I have to get you better!" I scream. My voice doesn't sound human anymore. It's distorted with tears and sobs.

"No," Peeta says quietly. "No."

"Don't tell me no!" I shout. "I'm going to get you better, I promise!" Tears are pouring down my face uncontrollably now. I can feel my shoulders jerk with every little breath I take. "I promise..."

"Briarose," whispers Peeta. "No." He's starting to cry now. I don't think it's because he's dying; it's because I'm crying. No. I'm not crying. I'm dying with him. Having Peeta hanging onto his last strand of life, I can't stand it. It's killing me. Literally. Peeta sighs. I should talk to him. Just talk. About him and I. Together.

"I love you, Peeta," I say in between sobs. He slowly blinks at me. "You're the best thing that's ever happened to me. And you know what makes you even more special than you already are? You aren't just the person I'm in love with, you're my best friend. We've been best friends for our entire lives. I loved you from the very beginning. And you'll never know just how much I love you..."

Peeta's eyes are completely shut now and I feel the warmth leave his body. I know, this time, there is not a chance of it coming back to him. I look up to the sky, my eyes filled with tears, and I see the crest representing the Capitol. I scream at it. I hate it.

"Are you happy now?" I scream to the sky. "Are you happy that this is what you caused?" I begin to sob uncontrollably once more, laying my head on Peeta's chest. My tears soak straight through his clothes. His hand is still holding mine. I don't ever want to let it go.

"Ladies and gentlemen, the winner of the 74th Annual Hunger Games, Briarose Antigone!"

I could scream every foul curse that comes to mind at the Capitol again. If I want. I could ask them why they just did that, declared me the winner when that's clearly not what I want. But I don't. Instead, I reach into my pouch containing the nightlock...

"No! Don't do that!" The announcer tries to stop me, but I don't listen. I don't care anymore.

I pull out a few of the death berries, and place them perfectly in the palm of my hand. I smile at the sight of them. Then I laugh a bit. I show them to the Capitol as Peeta and I had done. Peeta...

"No! Briarose, you've won! You don't have to do that!"

_Oh, but I do. You don't understand. You never will..._

I let the berries fall into my mouth and slide down my throat. I swallow them all. I close my eyes and lay down next to Peeta with my head on his chest once more, graciously awaiting death to come. _This will show them, _I think as my breathing slows. _This will show them all..._

_My name is Briarose. I don't know where I am. I just lost the person I loved my entire life. There's no point in me living anymore. Why aren't I dead? It'd be better to just be dead... _

I slowly open my eyes. They finally focus on a white ceiling. White ceiling, white walls, white dress. I sit up. There are a few tubes attached to my arm and there's a full wall mirror in front of me. I look at my entire body. My face, my arms, my legs, my chest. Flawless. Absolutely flawless. Almost radiant. I look heavenly, like an angel. My hair is shiny and flowing down behind my back, and my eyes look even more dazzling and green than they were before.

I shift my legs over the edge of the bed I'm on. I let my weight rest on them, expecting them to be weak and wobbly. But they're surprisingly strong. I pull the tubes away from my arms and dare to advance for the door. I want Peeta. He's dead, but I still want to see him. As soon as I push the door open, four Peacekeepers block my path. They walk toward me, forcing me back to the bed. I don't sit back down on the bed. I stand there in front of the Peacekeepers, challenging them to make the first move. Then I see Haymitch step out from behind them.

"Thank you, gentlemen," he says coolly. "Now, get out of here." He shoos them away and opens his arms to me. "Briarose."

I don't go to him. "Why am I alive?" I ask harshly.

"You mean, _how _are you alive?" Haymitch corrects me.

"Sure," I say, a little sarcastically.

"We picked you up and got all the nightlock out of your system before it atacked your heart," Haymitch tells me. "And Peeta-"

I interupt him. "And Peeta didn't make it, right? That's what you were going to say?" I don't intend to be so hard on Haymitch, but my tone refuses to change. "Well, don't waste your breath. I watched him die. I watched them all die..."

Haymitch grabs my shoulders. He doesn't smell of liquor, which is nice for a change. "Sweetheart," he says. He's laughing. "Peeta's alive."

Fury surges through my veins. "That's cruel, Haymitch," I say through gritted teeth. "That's really cruel."

"No, it's true!" Haymitch insists.

"Shut up!" I scream, pushing his hands off my shoulders and stalking to a corner in the room. "Stop telling me he's alive! I watched him die and it killed me! I should be dead right now, too! I should be dead, like Peeta!"

Haymitch comes toward me. I lash out at him and manage to punch him in the cheek like he did to Peeta when we were training. But he still grabs my wrist and starts half-dragging me out the door and down a long series of corridors. I keep struggling, but with no real idea of where I am, I soon stop and follow him without question. Haymitch finally stops at a huge white door. He punches in a code on a little screen and the doors slide open. I can't see anything. Not because it's too dark, I just can't see anything.

"He's in there, sweetheart," says Haymitch.

I'm reluctant to go in at first. But what else would this room be? I step inside and instantly, everything is visible. There's not much in this room, a table in a corner, and another door on the other side. It opens, and in steps Peeta with Portia at his side. He looks just as well as I do, and the twinkle has returned to his eyes.

"Peeta!" I squeal. "Peeta!" I run to him. He opens his arms and takes me in them. He loses his balance and slams against the wall behind him, and that's where we stay, embracing each other. I'm so happy right now, I could cry. And I do. My tears stream down my cheeks and through mine and Peeta's hair. I can feel one or two of his tears land in my hair as well.

I kiss Peeta. Again and again. I can't stop; I'm so ecstatic that he's alive. We both are. At least, I think we are. We could both be dead, but I'm okay with that, because Peeta's here with me. When we do stop kissing, Peeta smiles at me.

"Briar..." he breathes, still smiling.

"You're alive," I say softly.

"I know," says Peeta. "And so are you."

"I tried to kill myself," I tell him. "But...they saved me before I could."

"You did?" Peeta asks, astonished. "Briar, why would you do that?"

I sigh. "Because I didn't want to be alive if you were dead."

Peeta leans down and kisses me again. "It's okay now," he whispers. "We're both alive."

I smile at him and wrap my arms around his neck. We stay like that for a few minutes, before the door behind us opens. I turn around and see Haymitch with a camera crew behind him. I raise my eyebrows at him. He's clapping.

"Beautiful," he says. "Very visually touching and moving."

"What are you talking about?" I ask Haymitch.

"These mirrors?" he says, pounding on the glass. "One-way glass. We saw the whole thing, the reunion and all. And this is going straight to Caesar Flickerman for your interviews tonight. The audience will love it."

"Oh...yeah, the audience," I say. "They'll eat this right up." I look at Peeta. His eyes are trained on the ground, not daring to meet mine.

I look back at Haymitch, and I see Cinna step out from behind him. He smiles and I go and hug him. "Briarose," he says. "I'm so glad you made it back."

I don't say anything back. I'm still thinking about what Haymitch said about the reunion, and Peeta not looking at me. What just happened, what just made me happier than anything, was just another act. I'm not that surprised.

"Briar, go with Cinna," Haymitch tells me. "He has to get you ready."

I nod and follow Cinna back to the room I was in. To my delight, the room isn't white anymore. The walls have turned into trees and the ceiling is like the late-afternoon sky. The floor is like the forest floor, with soft grass and leaves the exact color of my eyes. I gasp. It's the forest from District 12.

"It seemed fitting that you should prepare to go home in your home," says Cinna. I smile because he's right.

Home. After this, we're going home. Finally. Even though the past three weeks were spent in the woods, the first thing I'm doing when I get back the District 12 is grab Gale and Katniss and race into the forest with them.

Cinna opens a closet door that I didn't even know was there until now. He pulls out a beautiful dress. It's green, the exact shade of my eyes, and gently fades into a light yellow at the bottom. It's simply gorgeous.

I step into it. It drapes down to about the middle of my shins. I'm about to look into a full-body mirror when Cinna taps my shoulder.

"Don't forget the shoes," he says, handing me a pair of shoes the color of the sun. I slip them on my feet. For being four-inch heels, they're surprisingly comfortable.

I look at myself in the mirror. I'm not pretty, or beautiful. I'm glowing, almost like a goddess. I smile the most radiant smile I've ever put on. Cinna reaches into his pocket and lightly pins a single briar rose in my hair, tucking it behind my ear. I don't look like a human, I look like the forest.

"What do you think?" Cinna asks.

"I think...I think this is the best you've done yet," I say. I spin around, expecting to be engulfed by flames again. But instead of flames, there's just wind. As my dress extends outward, gusts of wind fly and make everything tremble. The gale makes my hair float into the air.

Gale. I miss him so much. But I'll be seeing him soon. Very soon. The thought of seeing him again makes me smile.

At last, I realize I've been in the heart of the Training Center all this time. Cinna and I step into the elevator that whisks us to the stage where we'll be interviewed. As soon as I step out, I can hear the crowd roaring. The sound is so deafening that I'm tempted to cover my ears. Cinna leads me backstage, where Haymitch is waiting with Effie.

"Briarose!" she says happily. She comes over to give me a big hug. "Oh, I'm so happy you and Peeta are okay. I always had a feeling you two were special."

"Thanks...Effie..." I say akwardly.

I listen to the crowd more closely. They're shouting our names, mine and Peeta's. They sound so exhilerated for our victory. If only I didn't have the nagging feeling that...

"Hey, sweetheart." Haymitch breaks my train of thought. "Turn around." I turn to face him. He stares at me for a minute then shrugs. "Good enough." Not much of a compliment. "How about a hug for good luck."

I eye Haymitch suspiciously. He isn't drunk or anything, so I figure it's okay. When I do go to him, he starts whispering urgently. "Briar, the Capitol. They didn't like that thing you did with the berries. It was bad enough that you even pulled them out, but when Peeta died, you actually ate them. Purposely. You put them to shame and now they're the laughing stock of Panem."

"Hmm," I say. So I was right. The minute I woke up from being dead, I had a feeling some people weren't too happy about me killing myself. I'm not scared, or even shaken about the Capitol. I just smile. "So what? What can they do about it? I'm alive now, aren't I?"

"True, but for now, your only defense is that you were so in love with Peeta. That's why you did it," says Haymitch, adjusting the briar rose in my hair. "Got it?"

I nod. "What about Peeta?" I ask. "Is the Capitol angry with him too?

Haymitch hesitates. "Most likely."

"Well, did you tell him what you just told me?" I say. Where is Peeta, anyway?

"Don't need to," says Haymitch simply. "He's fine on his own."

"What do you mean?"

"He doesn't need me to tell him how to act up there. It'll just come naturally." Then Haymitch walks away, probably to find some liquor.

Did he mean Peeta knows the Capitol's angry with him and he knows what to do in defense? Or did he mean that Peeta is really in love with me? I suspect the first, considering the camera crew and all back in the Training Center.

My palms begin to sweat and I feel like I might faint from the screaming of the crowd. I hope that onstage, it will register as excitement, rather than fear. I'm afraid now. Afraid of the Capitol. Of what they'll do to me because of my suicide attempt, of what they'll do to Katniss or Gale or Prim or Birch, of what they'll do to Peeta.

I hope that the fact that Peeta's death was somewhat accidental will save him. Mine, however, was intentional. I knew what I was doing. There's nothing to save me, except the fact that I was so in love with Peeta. I'll have to work with that for now.

The anthem plays and I hear Caesar Flickerman welcoming the crowd. He introduces first our stylists. I watch Cinna and Portia walk onto the stage and bow. Then he introduces our mentor, Haymitch. He's stayed sober long enough to make a decent presentation. Next, Caesar introduces Effie. She looks just as ridiculous as she always has.

"Now, we have the very people to whom this night is dedicated." The audience is going wild now and I wonder where Peeta is. Then I see him. On the other side of the stage, waiting to go up the stairs opposite of mine. So that's what we'll be doing. Running center-stage to each other. "Briarose Antigone and Peeta Mellark!"

Caesar's voice booms all around me, and suddenly, I'm being pushed up the stairs. I shove the hands off me and walk up the steps as gracefully as possible in these heels. Oh...right. I'm wearing four-inch heels, and I'm meant to run to Peeta. Great.

I turn my head to the crowd as I walk on the stage and wave and smile and try to look pretty. _Time to play it up, _I think. I turn my head to look across the stage and put on the cutest smile I've ever worn, doing my best to look surprised and overjoyed when I see Peeta. He's wearing a green suitcoat, the same color as my dress, and black pants. He opens his arms to me and I don't hesitate. Keeping my balance surprisingly well, I run to him and he takes me in his arms and spins me around. I hear the audience squealing and _aww_ing at us.

When Peeta puts me down, we kiss. And the entire time, I'm thinking _Do you know just how much trouble we could be in? _About ten minutes pass. The crowd is still going crazy for us. Caesar taps our shoulders to try and continue the show. Peeta brushes him off like he's not even there and this throws the crowd into hysteria.

Haymitch is forced to intervene, because neither Peeta or I seem to want to let go of each other. He pushes in between us and gives us a shove toward the victor' chair. Usually there's only one chair, but this time, there's an entire couch for us, a love seat, as Birch has told me. He sees them all the time at Madge's house.

Peeta sits down before me, and then tugs on my arm. This, of course, forces me to practically fall onto the love seat right next to him. I see Haymitch across from us. He raises his eyebrows at me, telling me that's not good enough. _Fine, _I think. I throw my legs across Peeta's lap, to the point where I'm sitting on him, and I grab his face between my hands. Then I kiss him. Again.

I feel Peeta's hands sliding up and down my back. After about a minute of that, I move off of his lap. I tuck my legs under me and lay my head on Peeta's shoulder. He puts his arm around me and kisses my forehead. I look to Haymitch for approval. He's grinning and giving me a thumbs up along with Cinna, Portia, and Effie.

Caesar starts joking about us to the crowd, saying things like "_Are they not the cutest thing you've ever seen?" _and "_I've never seen any two people be so in love. It's simply fascinating_.", which, of course, is followed by the deafening roar of the crowd. Then it's time for the actual show. It's three hours of watching a shortened replay of the Games.

First, we watch a half-hour replay of the reapings, the opening ceremony, our training scores, and our interviews. When Peeta's interview comes, the crowd holds their breath until the famous line comes. _Because she came here with me_. When it comes, I can feel my cheeks redden and I put my hand on Peeta's knee. He hugs me closer to him.

Then comes the arena. The first day is an absolute bloodbath. There are so many people being stabbed, it makes me sick. And I notice, most people are dying at Cato's hands.

The parts they're showing now are mostly of Peeta and I. When he saved me from the Careers, when I found him in the mud, when we were in the cave. They're playing a sort of romance ballad in the backround. The audience seems totally mesemerized by it, they're jaws hanging open, they're eyes wide.

Then, they start to replay all the deaths. The ones that really got me were Rue, Clove, and Cato. Because I watched them die. I held their hands, and comforted them, and kissed them goodbye. I look into the sea of people. They're all staring at me, like they can't believe that I stayed with those people while they were dying, especially Cato and Clove. They're probably astonished that, given all they've done and all the deaths and pain they've caused, I still showed them kindness and love. I'm astonished myself, but how could I have just left them?

I'm also surprised the Capitol allowed those parts to be showed. After all, I was defying them a little when I was being so forgiving and kind to them. Kindness and forgiveness don't work with the Capitol. They prefer blood and gore and death.

The scene comes where Cato was being attacked by the mutts. This makes me uneasy, and I sit up and tense. Peeta pulls me closer to him and kisses my forehead. This is what the audience saw. And it's horrible. There are no words to describe the pain Cato must have been experiencing. Then, it's finished. The mutts are gone, and I see me, climbing down the Cornucopia to him. I see myself, holding his mangled hand, laying his head in my lap, pushing his hair away from his face. And, finally, me kissing his forehead, and ending his misery.

The audience is crying. Because Cato's death was so horrible. I didn't expect them not to.

More scenes with Peeta and I come. I don't mind watching them, but I just wish I didn't look so beaten up during them. Then again, we both looked pretty damaged. It seems like they extended all of the times we kissed.

And then comes the scene with the berries. I hear the audience shushing one another, not wanting to miss any of the suspense or romance. I'm surprised, but the entire scene is showed. Nothing is cut. It's all there, us standing back to back, us showing the sky our berries, us slipping them into our mouths. Even Peeta's death. And me, talking to him, and looking like an absolute wreck, crying over his body. And me, gulping down the berries and curling up into a ball, waiting to die.

Peeta and I even get to see how we were saved. A hovercraft appeared out of no where and shot syringes into our bodies. This must have been to slow the affects of the berries, so they'll have time to revive us. I was probably blacked out that whole time, because my body is as limp as a ragdoll's.

The video ends there, with us being taken into the hovercraft. President Snow comes onto the stage to give a small speech. Behind him is a little girl holding a pillow with two crowns, instead of one. Snow comes over to us and places the crowns on our heads. I avoid his gaze because I know he thinks I'm to blame for our deaths. And he's right.

Peeta and I stand together on the stage, waving to the audience as they clap and cheer for us. I'm so sick of this audience. Peeta turns to me, pulls me close, and kisses me again. For the crowd, of course.

Caesar finally bids us all goodnight, and District 12 makes its way back to the twelfth floor. We're all so tired, we walk like we're drunk. I look out the window and see the sun starting to peek over the horizon. I sigh. Peeta comes up behind me and puts his hand on my shoulder. I smile at him and head to my room.

"Go to bed. You're on air at two," Haymitch calls after me.

"Where did you think I was going?" I mutter.

I open the door to my room and clumsily stumble to my bed. I immediately fall asleep. In my dress. When I wake up, I think it's about six in the morning. I manage to get my dress off and slip into another one of those silky nightdresses. Then I climb back into bed and sleep until Effie bursts into my room telling me all about another "big, big, big day".

I half-walk, half-trudge into the dining room and gulp down a bowl of some sort of grain. Then Cinna takes me back to my room, along with my prep team, to dress me in a blue dress with white shoes. He pulls my hair back into a neat side-braid and ties a yellow ribbon around the bottom.

Then I'm lead down the hall to the sitting room. The interview is filmed right here, which is nice since there's no live audience. The huge couch that usually sits in the middle of the room has been removed and replaced with a love seat, similar to the one from last night. Surrounding it are vases of briar roses and petals from other various flowers. The scent in the room is fascinating because of this.

Caesar waves to me when I enter. I wave back and smile. Then there's Peeta, looking as handsome as ever wearing a suit just as blue as mine. He pulls me off to the side.

"I hardly get to see you anymore," he says.

"I know," I say back. "Haymitch has gotten very...responsible lately." Maybe he does care about keeping us alive.

"There's just this, and then he can keep on eye on us all he wants." Peeta notices my hair and the bow. He runs it between his fingers, and I realize that the ribbon is like the one I was wearing when we first met.

Caesar and the small camera crew are ready for us now. Peeta holds out his hand and I take it. We walk over to the love seat and plop down on it. I hold Peeta's hand tight, and Caesar says, "Go ahead and curl up together. It looked so adorable." So Peeta puts his arm around me and pulls me close to him. I tuck my feet under me again and lay my head on his shoulder.

Someone counts backward and then, we're being broadcasted live to the entire country. The minute the camera starts rolling, Caesar is off, joking and teasing and laughing. I kiss Peeta when the occasion presents itself, and he kisses me. Caesar gets all choked up when we do this. After a while, though, he starts to ask actual questions.

"So, Peeta," he starts. "We all heard that the 'forever' that you've been in love started when you two first met?"

"Yes. From the minute I saw her standing there, fluttering her eyelashes at me and tying a ribbon around her hair," Peeta sighs. I can't help laughing a little.

"I see. Very touching," says Caesar, putting his hand on his heart. "And you, Briarose? When did you fall for Peeta?" My breath catches in my throat. I never expected Caesar to ask me this. I always just relied on the fact that Peeta said he loved me and I said nothing.

I hesitate for a minute, trying to figure out what to say. Should I say that, honestly, it was from the first day I met him as well? Or should I make up some tragic, romantic tale about how 'love is an adventure'? I sigh. "I guess..." I start. I must sound terrible, hesitating about when I fell for Peeta. "When I really fell for him, it was around the third day of school, when we were six." That sounds reasonable.

"Ah," say Caesar, leaning back in his chair. "Would you care to tell us that story?"

"Sure," I say, sitting up in the love seat. "We were sitting in the cafeteria, me and Peeta, and we were talking about our families. Peeta was telling me about his two brothers and his mother and father. I told him that both of my parents were dead, that they died a few months prior to that day, and then I got sort of..." I search for the right word. "unresponsive. Peeta told me he was sorry and he held my hand for a few minutes. In those few minutes...I knew that he was special. And that I wanted him in my life, forever." I let out a long sigh. That story is true, but it wasn't the day I fell for Peeta. It was just something that added to my feelings for him.

"Oh, how romantic!" exclaims Caesar. Peeta hugs me closer to him and kisses me. "When you were up in that tree, and you heard the announcement about two tributes being able to win, what went through your mind?"

"I just knew that I needed to find him," I tell him. "I knew he was injured, and I knew he could be dead, but I still hung on to the thought that he might have still been alive." I'm starting to get choked up now, which adds a nice touch.

"Why were you so intent on finding him?" asks Caesar. _Isn't it obvious?, _I think to myself. But Caesar is just trying to play it up more, so I respond.

"Because I love him," I say simply. "More than he can ever know." Peeta leans down and kisses me. I can actually hear the people in the room sigh and I can hear Haymitch saying, "_Yes, sweetheart." _

Then Caesar goes on asking Peeta a bunch of questions about he and I. They're answered perfectly, to the point where I'm embarrassed at how mediocre my answers sounded compared to his. He sounds like he's reciting a poem, like the time he compared me to a briar rose. And then, the conversation is directed back to me.

"Briarose," says Caesar. "I have to ask you, what led you to forgive and comfort the other tributes while they were dying?" He means Clove and Cato. "Especially since the boy, Cato, threatened to kill Peeta?"

"I didn't want to see them die without someone there with them," I tell him. "Even if I didn't particularly love them, and even if they weren't the most caring or gentle people, they deserved to die knowing that at least I forgave them and wanted to remember them."

"Wow," Caesar breathes. "Briarose, I've said this more than once, but you have a magnificent heart. Not many of us would be willing to forgive people as vicious as them." He pulls out a hankerchief because he's so moved. Then he turns to Peeta. "Now, Peeta, when you saw the berries in Briarose's hand, what did you think?"

"I thought she was insane," answers Peeta. I actually laugh along with all the others. "But I knew why she was doing it. And I knew why I was willing to go along with it."

"And why was that?" asks Caesar.

"Because I couldn't ever bear the thought of being without her."

Caesar signs off, and it's all over. Just like that. Everyone is a mess, crying and huggin each other. I'm starting to cry myself, for no apparent reason. Peeta hugs me while I do, and kisses me. After a while, Effie tells us that we're going to board the train in an hour. I kiss Peeta on the cheek and head to my room to get my things.

There's nothing there. Abolutely nothing. My bed is in perfect order, and the closet door hangs open with nothing in it. Someone must have came and cleaned out my room during the interview. I shrug. And then I notice the remote on the nightstand. The remote that controls the walls. I pick it up and press a button.

The forest. All around me. I stare for a minute, but don't linger. I'm going home to the forest soon. I press another button. This time, a scene I've never experienced before appears. It's Peeta. It's just him, standing there. He looks like he's almost talking, but I don't hear anything. And then there's me, walking into view. I go up to him and wrap my arms around his neck and kiss him, tugging on his hair.

A knock on my door makes me push another button on the remote, which changes the walls into water. An ocean. I open the door and see Effie, telling me it's time to board the train.

I leave the room and close the door. I get to say a brief goodbye to Cinna, and I follow Effie to the elevator that takes us to the ground, where a black car with tinted windows waits for us. We climb inside, and I see that Peeta and Haymitch are already there. I sit across from the both of them. Haymitch seems to have been drinking and goes over to Effie to start sweet-talking her again.

I stay where I am, not looking at Peeta. I'm surprised that I'm not ecstatic about going home. I'm happy, yes, but not ecstatic. Peeta comes over to me and hugs me tightly. He could always sense how I was feeling. Right now, I don't know what I'm feeling. We finally arrive at the train station, where the glorious train is waiting to take us home.

It speeds off through a long, black tunnel and when we finally come back into the light, I take my first free breath since the gong sounded in the arena. We eat a huge dinner, and I know I should probably enjoy it. It's the last one I'll have, for a while. After that, we go to watch a replay of the interview. It's quite touching, actually.

The train stops for fuel and we'rea allowed to go outside for some fresh air. There are no cameras around, and no one to "guard" us. There's no need anymore. Peeta and I walk along the train tracks, and eventually, abandon them and venture into a small meadow. It's filled with more briar roses then I've ever seen in my life. In District 12, briar roses are a rarity. Peeta picks one, perfectly pink one and hands it to me. I smile and take it gratefully. It'll be nice to have a tangible memory of our adventures in the Games together.

I see Haymitch approaching us. I didn't even know that he had been following us. He came over and stood in front of us. "Great job, you two," he says. "Just keep it up until all the cameras are gone when we get back. Do that, and we'll be okay." Peeta nods, and I have no choice but to do the same. Haymitch turns and walks away, kicking the flowers in front of him.

I look back at Peeta. He seems confused. I wonder why. There isn't any reason for him to be confusd. Finally he says, "What's he mean?"

I sigh. Haymitch must not have told him. "The Capitol didn't like what I did with the berries," I tell him. "It was...rebellious to them."

"What do you mean?" asks Peeta. He's really clueless about this, isn't he?

"They didn't like the fact that I killed myself for you, and that you were okay with dying for me. So, Haymitch coached me a little. So I wouldn't make anything worse..."

"Coaching you, but not me?" Peeta asks.

"He knew you were smart enough to get it right..." I don't think I'm saying the right things.

"I didn't know there was anything to get right," says Peeta. I gasp softly. _I didn't know there was anything to get right. _What? Does he mean that...he wasn't acting after all? No...he couldn't mean that. He said himself that it was a stradegy that Haymitch worked out. But...what else would he mean? "So...what your saying is...those times when we were together...and I guess, back in the arena and during the interviews...that was...an act?"

"No!" I say, louder than I intended. "It wasn't...I mean, do you think I would really have worked out something like that myself?" I'm panicking now. I'm saying this all wrong. Because I'm still not sure if what I want to say is what Peeta wants to hear. "Haymitch didn't tell me how to act."

"But you knew what he wanted you to do?" says Peeta. I feel the panic rising in my chest even more. I can't seem to work out the right words to use. "Briar?" He takes a step away from me and I'm starting to stammer useless words. "It was all for the Games, how you acted, wasn't it?" I see small tears forming in his eyes now.

"No!" I cry. I take a breath, about to tell him that I really do love him, but instead, all that comes out is, "Not all of it."

"Then how much?" asks Peeta. "No, forget that." Peeta sighs and puts his head down. He starts to walk away, and a voice in my head is screaming at me. _Tell him, you idiot! Tell him now! _

"Peeta!" I shout, almost crying. He turns around slowly and I see his eyes, his perfect brown eyes, so hurt now. _He really did love me..._ I can't believe I thought that all of that was an act. I was so blind. Peeta starts to turn away again. _Tell him! While there aren't any cameras around! _"Peeta..." I don't know why, but words won't come. They just refuse. But finally, I force them to come. And they come perfectly. "I love you." I say this so softly, and I don't think that he hears me, but he does.

Peeta turns around and stares at me. I lock my green gaze on his, and I can practically see what I just said sink in. Then he comes toward me, slowly. When he finally reaches me, he embraces me like he never has before. He doesn't let go, for anything. "You think I don't love you?" he asks.

I feel a bit of anger surge up inside of me. "You were the one that said Haymitch told you to tell Caesar you loved me," I say, harsher than intended.

"He did," says Peeta.

"Exactly," I say bitterly. I start to walk past him, but he catches me in his arms again.

"Briar...listen to me," he says. I try to move away from him, but he only hugs me tighter. "I love you, okay," he whispers. "I do."

I start crying. I'm embarrassed. Embarrassed that I never saw how much Peeta actually does love me until now. Everything he did, everytime that he hugged me or kissed me, was genuinely real.

Peeta goes on in a soft, quiet tone. "Why do you think I was so upset when you told me about Haymitch coaching you?" Oh, I knew why. I just didn't believe that it was real. "I love you, Briarose Antigone."

"I love you, too..." I reply.

Peeta loosens his grip on me and I stare into his eyes. He stares back, and kisses me. This, I know now, is real and always has been. I can't believe I've been so blind about him. Only the blare of the train whistle can break us apart.

We board the train again. Peeta still has his arm around my waist. I'm glad he doesn't let go. We sit in the small sitting room in front of the unlit fireplace until we're plunged into darkness, signalling we've just entered the tunnel that leads to the train stations of District 12. We near it quickly. Peeta takes me to the window. We stare as the train station comes closer and closer. He turns to me and runs his hand along my cheek. I can feel my cheeks turn as red as a rose and we kiss.

I embrace him tightly around the neck and he slides his arms around my waist. He kisses me again, and again, and again, until we hear the train come to a stop. _We're home, _I think. I sigh and take Peeta's hand. The doors of the train open, and Peeta kisses me one more time, before we're to be engulfed by cameras. He pulls me close to him and whispers softly, "I love you."

Of course, my answer is, "I love you, too."

4-22-12


End file.
